My Canadian Cousin
by Tensleep
Summary: The summer Steve's cousin came to visit would be one he wasn't about to forget.
1. Fish out of Water

All of the chapters for this story have been Beta'd and reposted. Hopefully everyone enjoys commas! Special thanks to Zickachik73 for being the awesome one who made the corrections!

Well, Tensleep here with yet another new idea. I'm sorry, they just come to me, buit no more, promise! Yeah...Anyways, this on kinda hits close to home since I am Canadian! Let's see how you folks like it.

Disclaimer: I own Becca Brant and Mark Randle so far. That's about it. S.E. Hinton owns the Outsiders.

On with the show!

Chapter 1

"Captain's log, star date 3574.9. What's left of the crew and I, that would be me, too, are struggling for life on the outlands of planet Earth, otherwise known as Oklahoma…"

"Will you give it a rest, Becca? It's been hours."

"That's Captain Becca to you," I said not looking to the front seat.

"Well, Captain Becca," his voice was sarcastic, "We'll be in Tulsa in an hour."

"Don't mock me," I warned.

He sighed and muttered to himself for a minute. I didn't care what he thought. I was mad at him. For two days now, Mark had been my stepfather and he was already acting like he was the boss of me. Sure, when he and Mama started dating I liked him, but now he was shipping me off to stay with his family so they could have a nice, kid-free, honeymoon. I was 16! I think I could have taken care of myself for the summer. There's no trust these days. So I spent the next hour doodling in my notebook and Mark tapped on the steering wheel to the dull country music. I had decided that Oklahoma was never ending farmland when we finally saw an actual city.

"Well, Captain, welcome to Tulsa," Mark smiled.

"Joy." I rolled my eyes.

"I grew up here, you know," he said smiling. "Hasn't changed much since my day."

If things were like this in his day, there was no doubt in my mind why he left Tulsa and found a place that really moves. I mean, sure, places like New York and San Francisco move more than Toronto, but this was just pathetic.

"We'll be at my brother's in a moment," Mark said stopping at a four way. "Now, please behave."

He looked at me with pleading eyes in the rear view mirror and I nodded. That didn't mean I would, it just got him off my back for the rest of the time I had to see him.

"Back in my day there was only one side of town which I do believe that has now become the east side…"

This side of town certainly did look older than the other and a lot more run down. Paint was peeling off houses and the cars looked older. Finally Mark pulled up in front of an old blue house. There was no car in the drive way and someone had made an attempt at a flower garden. It seriously looked like these people were on welfare or something. I could tell this was going to be a very long summer.

"Come on, Becca," Mark said hoisting one of my bags out of the trunk

I got out and took my backpack from him. He smiled and led the way. I guess this was the first time it hit me that I was going to be all alone with strangers. I straightened up and tried to look like it wasn't going to bother me.

"Hello Mark!" A woman in her forties said brightly,

It was then that I realized how southern the accents where here. The people in the Oklahoma City airport weren't that bad, but they must have dealt with different accents every day.

"Hi, Laurie," Mark greeted with only a smile.

I wondered if he had had such an accent when he grew up here. If he did, it was mostly gone now and I could tell Laurie noticed it. She shook it off and prepared herself for my accent. Wait, I didn't have an accent, these people did. It didn't matter.

"And this must be Rebecca! We're going to get to know each other really well."

Laurie Randle was Mark's sister-in-law. She looked old and frazzled. I didn't know how much I wanted to get to know her. We weren't even blood related, so I doubted she would even notice me after Mark was gone. I surprised myself by slipping my hand in his. Mark glanced at me and smiled comfortingly.

"Are you going to stay the night?" Laurie asked.

"No," Mark shook his head. "I have to be on the plane tonight so I can meet Sharon in Paris. She had more work to do at her office in Toronto."

"Sounds like a pretty romantic honeymoon," Laurie said smiling.

"Yeah and thanks again for looking after Becca."

"I'm very surprised you asked. We got out a map and found Toronto. It's a far cry from Tulsa."

'_No, it was right across the street…what an Einstein'_ I thought and wanted to roll my eyes, but Mark must have been thinking the same thing I was because he gave me a 'don't do that' look. Sometimes I really wondered about him. The adults talked for a while and I looked around the room. That they were poor was obvious and that Mrs. Randle was a very good cleaner was as well. You could smell how much she'd used to impress Mark for the fifteen minutes he'd be here.

"Well, I should be going." Mark finally stood and handed Laurie a check. "That should last her the summer."

"I should hope so," Laurie's eyes were big and greedy for it.

"You be good, kiddo," Mark said, going to ruffle my hair, but I grabbed his hand.

He grinned and went back out to the car and I watched him through the window. I guess now I was really all on my own. _'Oh and a joy it would be.'_ I thought sarcastically. Laurie turned to me after a bit and smiled brightly.

"We got a room together for you," she said. "I hope you'll like it." I nodded and followed her up the stairs. She showed me to a little room with white walls, worn wood floors and a big bay window. There was a bed, a dresser, a mirror and a closet and that was the room. I dropped my suitcase on the bad and my backpack beside it. She stood in the door, looking around like she was very fond of this dusty, old room. "Well, I'll give you some time to settle in and I'll call you down for dinner," she said "Feel free to do anything with the room that you want." I nodded and she shut the old door behind her. I looked around the room and sighed. There wasn't much I could do with it, but put up some posters from home and load the closet full of my stuff. With that in mind, I grabbed my favorite poster in the whole world and taped it up on the wall, above the bed. William Shatner…Was there another man alive who was as sexy as he was? I don't know how long I just sat there, staring at him, before I heard the front door slam. I looked out the window and saw an old beat up car was in the driveway. I guess this was my…uncle coming home. No, I was going to treat him just as I treated Mark. I think his name was Tony. I'd written it down somewhere, so I was going to have to go through my notebook at some point and find it. If worse came to worst, I could call him Mr. Randle for the summer. I spent the next few hours in my room, just trying to make it seem more like home. That was going to be pretty hard. I don't think I even owned anything white, but the room and the bedding were white. I suddenly got an idea and threw my big red sleeping bag over the bed. It immediately brightened up the room. I knew I was going to have to paint some pictures and tape them up this summer. The Randle house would be the only house in the whole city with scenes of Canada in their guest's bedroom. 

One day, when I was a little old lady, I could tell my grandchildren that I spent the summer of '65 in Tulsa Oklahoma. I shook my head at how lame the thought was and started spreading my things out on the dresser. I caught a look at myself in the mirror and mourned my long, blonde hair for a moment. The climate here would do nothing for it. I had deep blue eyes, like my brother. We both looked like my father. My father! I had nearly forgotten! I went through my bag and fished out the wooden frame that had a picture of my dad in it. He was a good-looking guy and I displayed him proudly by putting him on the nightstand.

"Rebecca? Would you come down here?" Laurie yelled and I finally rolled my eyes, which felt very good, and told her I'd be down in a minute.

When I got down there, Laurie and a boy around my age were just standing there. The boy kinda looked like Mark and a little like Laurie. I guess he must have been Sean or something. I couldn't remember everything Mark told me. Whoever he was, he was sure looking unimpressed with me. A man was sitting in a chair in front of the TV and I supposed that was Tommy or Tony or whoever he was.

"Steve, this is your cousin Rebecca," Laurie introduced.

"Hi," I said.

"Hey," he rolled his eyes.

Laurie threw him a stern look and he sighed like being there was a great chore to him.

"Please to meet you," he ground out.

"Likewise," I said, not at all sure if that was the case.

"And this is my husband, Tony," she said, pointing out the man in the chair. He grunted and Laurie frowned, but for the most part ignored it.

I wanted to raise an eyebrow and comment on the Neanderthals of Oklahoma, but I didn't. We all stood there awkward for a moment until Tony started yelling for a beer.

"Dinner won't be for a while, so why don't take Rebecca with you to your friends' house?" Laurie suggested, hustling into the kitchen.

Steve was fully glaring at me by this time, but he nodded to appease his mother. Her face lit up and she smiled at him. Boy, was I glad my mother wasn't a flake and that my brother wasn't a total asshole and that my dad didn't like TV. I forgot where I was going with this.

Laurie shooed us out the door and Steve threw me another venomous look. I guess I was cramping his style. Well, he was cramping mine. I didn't want to be stuck babysitting Mark's nephew all summer. They weren't going to pay me for that and if they tried to, I wouldn't accept.

"Well, since I have to bring you, I should tell you a few things. The place I'm going to is where Darry, Sodapop and Ponyboy Curtis live. They lost their parents a month back, so don't say nothing," Steve explained.

"You should get to know me before you judge me," I said looking him right in the eye.

He shrugged and walked down the front yard. I followed him and caught up to his pace. We kind of just walked like that - silent with him mad at me because I was there. Well, I was going to have to tell him it wasn't my choice. No, my choice was hanging out in the mountains with my brother for the summer.

I started getting a closer look at Steve. He might have been cute if he had more of Mark in him and he would do something respectable with his hair. I swear he had half a tube of grease in it if not more. His blue eyes were sarcastically set and he just hit me as the major asshole of the family. Maybe by the end of summer he could prove me wrong.

We went to an even shabbier house than the one I was staying in and I got the impression this was where 7up, Horsefly and Dairy lived. Well, I suppose they couldn't be that bad, there were only three of them. We heard someone knock something over inside and someone else laughed while there was lots of yelling. It sure sounded like more than three of them…

"Come on, then," he said opening the door.

"Hey Steve! Where ya been?"

"Yeah, we had a poker game scheduled for now."

"Who's that?"

I finally poked my head through the door and saw not three or four, but six guys sitting in the front room. All of them were staring right back at me. I wanted to say something, but what do you say at a time like this? So, I stood there and Steve finally rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"Everyone, meet my Canadian cousin."

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted. 

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	2. Lessons Learned

Chapter 2

"Captain's log; day seven on the alien planet," I said aloud as I wrote. "Little has changed in the last few days. I sill remain as aloof as possible from my alien hosts. Unfortunately, I am being forced to be in the company of the alien offspring. The Alien mother seems to think this will be good for the pair of us. I, however, do not agree. The offspring, Steve, is loud, rude, and entirely undiplomatic. He has not given me a polite word or look since I arrived. I am beginning to grow tired of it and may end up doing something undiplomatic myself."

I shut my journal and sighed. If only it were that exciting here. I wouldn't be surprised if tourists keeled over from boredom. Well, I hadn't seen any tourists yet and I hadn't counted on it, either. There was nothing in Tulsa to draw them. No parks, no pools, no resorts, no anything. There was dust, though. Lots and lots of it. It seemed to be a protective covering on everything here. If they could market it, they may have made a good sale with the quantities.

Today it was the same as any other day. The sun rose, we ate three meals and at some point, I had to go and baby-sit Steve. Since I got here he had showed me three places; The Curtis', The Dingo, and the DX. I figure that these are the bright spots of Tulsa and if this was it, then I really do pity the place. The DX is where he works and I have to sit around like a bump on a log. I was sure glad I had brought books and my journal with me. Mark had said I would need them. I hated to admit when he was right, but he was right about a lot of the things he'd told me about Tulsa.

Tomorrow I had been invited to 'The Nightly Double'. Mark had said it was a big spot for entertainment and I hoped he was right. I wasn't sure what it was exactly, but I was hoping it was a bar or a pool hall or something. I knew there was beer in the house here, but it seemed like Tony was actually able to keep a tally on it. I wasn't really one for getting drunk, but I liked the change once in a while. I'd left my fake ID in Canada, but the limit was 19 up there in Ontario and 18 out where my brother was in Alberta. Here it was 21, so it wouldn't have done me any good, even if I had remembered it.

Dallas Winston had a fake ID and he used it, too. The other night, in fact. There's a place called the vacant lot or the lot. It seemed like a likely place for a house to be built, if the neighborhood had any equity. Anyways, he went and bought a ton of beer, which attracted every Greaser (Yes, that is what the people on the east side of town are really called. It's because of the stuff they use to keep their hair in place. Perhaps I will tell Steve what it was used for in the earlier part of the century and perhaps not- it depends on his behavior over the next few days) in the area to the lot. They had got loud and rowdy and Steve, the ass, decided it was a perfect time to escort me back to the house and go back to that party himself.

"Rebecca?" Laurie called.

"Yes?" I yelled back wondering if it was an early dinner; that seemed to be the only reason she called me.

"I left some dinner in the fridge that ya'll can heat up later," she informed me.

"Why?" I asked opening my door and popping down the stairs.

"It's Friday. I go to Bingo on Friday nights."

Bingo? Now what was Bingo code for again? Oh…. That was just…

"Ok," I answered looking her over and wondering what was appealing about her.

"I'll be back later some time. Tony should be home around five," she added.

"Steve said he was going to take me to a movie tonight," I informed her. "So we might be late, too."

She looked at me like I had grown a third head. I don't suppose Steve ever told her any of his plans, ever. It was typical at home. If I didn't tell my mother where I was going, she made sure I didn't go anywhere. It was a real pain, but she seemed happier for it and I got to do more with less static. Sure, I wasn't always honest, but it saved me time and Mom the worry.

"That's…fine," she answered still looking at me like I was nuts.

I shrugged and made my way back upstairs. It was the only place in the house I didn't mind being. The bottom level smelled too much like cleaning supplies and beer. Maybe I was just making excuses. I liked the upstairs because I had my own space with my own things and it was away from these strangers. Who knew anything anymore?

I glanced over at that old framed picture of Dad and knew exactly why he had a cabin in the mountains. Just to have a place of your own where no one can bother you…it was bliss.

/-/-/

It was later when we got to the Nightly Double that I found out where half the population of Tulsa was hiding. The place was bustling with Greasers and respectable looking people Steve and Two-Bit called 'Socs'. I gathered this was because they were little Socialites. I don't think I saw one not talking to another one. They threw me strange looks and I smiled back politely. I didn't want to hang out with Steve or be seen with him, either, but there was no way around it.

The movies didn't look all that interesting, but I was hoping that it would be something like home. My friends and I would go see some stupid beach flick and make fun of it. Those and monster movies were the favorites. I sighed and followed Steve over to where there were some seats. He hadn't wanted to pay a quarter for the car, so we'd walked over. Two-Bit had pointed out different places to me and told many, many far fetched stories along the way. I wasn't sure if I liked him, yet, but he seemed to annoy Steve, which was good enough for me.

"Hey, Becca? How about getting me some popcorn, Sugar?" Two-Bit asked just as we sat down. I hadn't even smoothed out my skirt.

"And what makes you think I'm your slave?" I asked raising an eyebrow at him.

"Well, Steve did sign the deed," Two-Bit drawled.

"Steve?" I asked gaping at him.

"I didn't sign anything. He's just a lazy ass," Steve added from Two-Bit's other side. "So you're still mine and you can go and get me popcorn."

I glared at him and knew exactly what I would do to him when I got that popcorn. He smirked at me and handed me a dime. Two-Bit stood up and came to the concession with me, probably figuring I wouldn't buy him anything, which he was correct in assuming. Two-Bit hadn't been a part of the original plan for the evening. Steve said he and I were going to a movie, but failed to mention it wouldn't just be the two of us. I thought it was a smart idea to have a middleman, but Two-Bit? I sighed and just went along with it. It would have been rude to make him leave just because Steve and I couldn't get along. We'd only had a week to get to know each other, mind you, I had the feeling that we would never get along, though, which was fine by me. I didn't need Mark's relatives in my life. I didn't need Mark in my life. We were fine last summer. I was back home, my brother Bobby was still in Toronto and Mom worked so much that I could get away with anything. Now look where I was. This was going to be a long summer. At least I only had three weeks left here. It wasn't the whole summer, but it bloody well seemed like it.

"A coke," I said sweetly to the cashier. "With lots of ice."

"Baby, when you smile that that, I think I want to run for cover," Two-Bit informed me grinning.

"Most people would, Two-Bit. You're a pretty brave guy."

"Hell, I just don't know when to quit while I still can," he answered grinning. "Just let me know when I'm in danger, huh?"

"You'll know," I assured him.

He followed me back to where Steve was sitting with his feet up on the seat in front of his and a bored, yet smug look on his face. I was going to wipe that off, no way around it.

"Where's my popcorn?" He asked when we got to the row.

"I'll only say this once, Steve Randle, so you'd better listen. I am not your slave," I paused, tipping the pop over his head before he had a chance to react. "And you will not treat me as such, got it?"

Steve sputtered at the coke hit his eyes and mouth. He toppled out of his chair and was up in a shot. He looked mad and I had the feeling that if I weren't a girl and his 'cousin', he would have hit me. He even raised his hand to do it, but I held my ground and glared at him.

"You ever do that again-" he started.

"And you're really one to threaten me!" I snapped back. "What are you going to do Steve? I'm in your town with your friends and your rules. I'm not even in my own flippin' country! There's nothing you can take away from me and if you raise a hand to me, I will raise one back."

Steve looked at me for a solid moment and I was fairly certain I had made a total ass out of myself, but I couldn't have helped it, even if I wanted to. He'd ignored me all week and treated me like I was less than nothing. I was sick of it.

"There are several things I could do to you," Steve was so serious I nearly stepped backwards. "Leaving you here on your own being one of them."

"Steve," Two-Bit started.

"That's the worst you can do?" I asked over him.

"Steve, man," Two-Bit tried again. "Don't even joke about that. It ain't funny."

Steve seemed to consider him for a moment before glaring at me. I didn't understand most of that conversation, but Steve sat down in a dry seat with his arms crossed and a scowl on his features. Two-Bit sighed and started off towards the concession stand again and, not wanting to be alone with Steve, I followed.

"Becca, I know Steve ain't been the greatest host," Two-Bit started on a serious tone, which was different for him. "But you shouldn't be anywhere without him, especially after dark."

"Worried about me, Two-Bit?" I asked, helping him get some napkins.

"Nah. I'm worried about what Steve's Dad'll do to him if you get in trouble," he answered.

"I didn't plan on going and looking up trouble," I informed him truthfully.

"I know, Sugar. Did Steve bother to tell you about the Socs?" he asked and I shook my head. "They're a bunch of rich kids we're always fighting with. They jump us; we fight them, the usual. They don't generally bother our girls, but if they're drunk or you don't look hard as nails, they'll jump you, too."

I gaped at him and then down at my pink skirt with butterflies on it and the light yellow shirt with the frilly arms. I didn't look tough. No one would be intimidated by me, not even a mouse. I knew exactly where Two-Bit was going with this and I didn't like it. I had to worry about being mugged in Toronto, but I'd had friends with cars and I knew the place. This wasn't home and it was a frightening thought.

"I see," I answered softly.

"Then there's Greasers that can get drunk and rowdy and do the same thing to girls. People know Steve and they won't bug you, but memory is in short supply sometimes," he went on. "So I would go and try to apologize to him, or you'll be spending a great deal of time in that house on your own for the rest of the summer," he added.

I must have given him a weird look because he smiled at me. He couldn't have known that I would have hated being cooped up all summer, but he obviously did.

"You're pretty smart for a Greaser, eh?" I asked.

"Hell, I'm still a junior." He grinned and I shook my head.

Two-Bit hung back at the concession and talked to one of the girls there. I took that as my cue to gather all the napkins the two of us had grabbed and headed over to where Steve was still sitting. He glared at me and I held up one of the napkins and waved it as a sign of peace. He didn't seem to think that was as funny as I did, but he didn't tell me to go away. I handed him a bunch of napkins and started wiping down his shoulders. The pop wasn't dried yet, but Steve would be and would smell sticky until had had a shower. He'd just had one before we left and I felt a little guilty. I had overreacted, a lot, but he had it coming… Swallowing what pride I had left, I squared my shoulders and tried to look sorry.

"I'm sorry about the pop," I offered. "I should have just told you what was bugging me."

"Yeah, you should have. I shouldn't have said I'd leave you here," he answered stiffly.

That was about as much of an apology either of us were willing to offer. I smiled at him and he avoided looking at me. I still had Steve's dime in my pocket so I decided to go and actually get him that popcorn. He looked at it and back at me and I knew what was coming when half of it ended up on my head. I giggled and he smirked, eating what was left in his box. Two-Bit came over a minute later and started helping me pick the pieces of popcorn from my hair. I thought it was funny so did he. Steve just shook his head and muttered something about monkeys. I smirked at him and he returned it. Maybe we could be friends after all. I shook my head. I shouldn't push these things especially when ten minutes ago I had been fuming with him and he'd been drenched, equally fuming. But I liked it when he smirked like that. It showed he was somewhat human. Maybe he wasn't as much of a jerk as I pegged him to be and maybe he was. I stopped with that. He was Steve and that was all I had to remember. That and the fact he liked to get even. I certainly had something new for the logs and if things kept up like this… It was going to be an interesting summer to say the least.

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	3. A Strange Outing

Well, a blue moon update! Enjoy!

Discalimer: The usual!

On with the shoe!

Chapter 3

"Captain's log; supplemental. The Alien offspring, further to be referred to as Steve, has arranged a strange outing tonight. Apparently his potential life mate, further to be referred to as Evie, has interest in making my acquaintance. Though Steve sounds mildly annoyed by this fact, he seems willing to let this meeting proceed. I think Evie had a lot to do with that. From what I have heard, she is suited to his personality. This is troubling, for Steve is a unique creature, one I hoped was the last of his species. Perhaps he will surprise me in time. Regarding Evie, Horsefly Curtis is not too fond of her, or of Steve, either. It will be an interesting first contact."

I closed my notebook and moved from my sitting position of the last few minutes. It wasn't hard to find time to write in my journal these days. If I wasn't bothering Steve at work, and yes, bothering on purpose because it was funny, then I was generally over at the Curtis house. I have a correction to make. These brothers we in fact called Darry, Soda and Pony. Though, I still did think that calling Ponyboy Horsefly was funny. He just blushed and didn't bother to correct me for the first week I was here. Two-Bit finally did after laughing at me for a good half an hour. I was mad at him, but it's almost impossible to stay mad at that boy. Apparently his mother thought so, too. That was also in accordance to Ponyboy. If it weren't for him, I would most likely know nothing about anyone and make a total fool of myself. I shrugged. He barely talked as it was, so I guess it was good I could get that much out of him.

I looked out the window of my bedroom and saw someone moving around in the house across the street. At least they moved. For the first while here, I had figured sleeping in was something Greasers did to pass the time. I guess it wasn't so all over. I'd learned early that Tony and Laurie slept late every weekend and Steve did too, if he was smart. Me, well, I was never an early riser, but with so little to do to keep me out late, I went to bed early and woke early. Yeah, fancy that coincidence. I shrugged into a t-shirt and some shorts, forgoing the blouse and skirt for now. It was a Sunday morning. I didn't need to get all gussied up. I'd do that later when I met Evie.

"If I feel like it," I amended to the room, tying my hair back into a ponytail.

I took one last look in the mirror and another at William Shatner before creeping downstairs and into the kitchen. Laurie had bought some apples after I subtly requested them. You'd swear these people were allergic to fruit. I was convinced they had the same affliction to vegetables before we had potatoes and corn with every meal. I just shook my head at that. Of course I'd land right where my least favorite foods were staples. At least there was chocolate cake over at the Curtis'. It took me a few days to figure out that was how Steve avoided eating what his mother cooked. Once I did, Darry held out the open invitation to eat cake over there whenever I wanted. I was going to take him up on that.

I grabbed an apple, at least to make it look like I tried to eat something good, and made my way back towards the front door. I nearly ran into Steve who sighed and just waved me along. I shrugged, not willing to make an argument out of it. I suppose he had had the same idea I had about the cake. I was going to take a bite of the apple, but Steve was giving me odd looks. I shrugged and offered it to him. He frowned at it, like it really was foreign, but took it and cut off a chunk with his blade. Now, there was one thing about Steve I actually liked. I had been a nut for all kinds of blades ever since I kind of fell in love with a boy at school who was always flicking it out. I shook my head, deciding not to go there. Instead I concentrated on Steve, who tasted the bit of apple gingerly.

"Good, huh?" I asked, taking a bite.

Steve shrugged and ate what was left in his hand. I offered it to him again, but he shook his head and opened the door to Darry's house. No matter how you looked at it, it was Darry's house. He kept it the way he wanted, he organized it the way he wanted, he paid for it, and he was the only one of these guys who looked like he fit there. Soda was too wild and Ponyboy too bookish. I could see Soda living in the garage and Ponyboy in a study. Darry fit the domestic place.

He was sitting in his armchair, reading the paper and drinking coffee when we came in, looking like he had been up for hours. Domestic or what?

"Morning, Steve. Morning, Becca," he greeted. "There's cake in the fridge."

"You assume we came over here just for cake?" I asked with mock hurt.

"Yup," he answered not looking up from the paper.

"Well, when you're right, you're right." I shrugged. "Can I fill your cup while I'm out there?"

"Please." Darry nodded handing me his cup.

Steve rolled his eyes at me, but I ignored him. It wasn't my fault he was born without a courteous bone in his body. Darry practically fed the pair of us breakfast every morning. Filling his cup was the least I could do.

"Soda up yet?" Steve asked.

"Nope," Darry answered and they fell silent again.

I figured Steve and Darry didn't get along as great as they could have. I hadn't heard the story behind it and I figured it wasn't my business anyhow. I didn't particularly care why Darry disliked Steve or why Steve was the tiniest bit more uncomfortable with Darry then he was with anyone, except me. Maybe that was why I liked Darry so much. I smirked to myself and filled the cup after cutting Steve and myself a piece of cake.

Somehow I was certain Soda had smelled us eating cake. He wandered out of his bedroom and had a handful of Steve's before good morning pleasantries had been exchanged. Darry frowned at the chocolate cake crumbs hitting the carpet, but Soda wasn't alive enough to notice. He smiled a bit once the sugar began to sink in. I knew that feeling well. I was starting to get happy as the sugar sunk into my system as well.

"Hey, didn't we have a football game scheduled for today?" Soda asked, looking around.

"Yeah, but I told Two-Bit not to show up until lunch time," Darry answered.

"Yup. Why do you think I'm here so early?" Steve asked smiling.

"Are you going to play?" Soda asked, looking me over.

"Oh! Umm, I don't think so," I answered a bit sheepishly.

"Come on! You can be on my team," Soda offered.

"We play kind of rough, Little Buddy," Darry said from his armchair.

"We could be gentle with her." He shrugged. "So, what do you think?"

"Well," I paused. "I think I'll sit on the sidelines."

"You sure?" Soda asked. "We'll be gentle and it'll be fun, promise."

I sighed. He was too cute. Those big, brown eyes. And worse he knew I was melting in the palm of is hand. _'You're too gullible,'_ I thought, but I didn't really care. If Soda said it would be fun, it would be.

"I think I will play a little. But I want to sit on the side lines until you guys get into the game and get a little of that energy worn off. That way I think there'll be less chance of me getting clobbered," I explained and Darry nodded to himself.

"Sure thing," Soda laughed. "You'll have a blast."

"I hope so," I answered smiling.

Steve didn't look impressed, but I suppose he was warming up to the idea. He was smirking slightly and looked like he was revved to play. It wasn't much longer before Ponyboy came out of his room and blushed something awful when I caught sight of him in a T-shirt and his underwear. I wanted to tell him I was used to it and he shouldn't have worried, but he was off and back into his room like a shot. I shrugged to myself and jumped when I heard Two-Bit shout a very loud'good morning' right behind me. He was grinning like a buffoon and I was working to get my heart to slow down for the next couple minutes while he again laughed at me. Lord, didn't he have anything better to do?

"Who's ready to play?" He hollered once the novelty of watching me panic wore off.

"The game's not until this afternoon!" I pointed out as loudly as I could.

"You should know that **our** games never make it until whenever we say they are," Soda informed me. "Especially when Two-Bit isn't hung-over."

"Hell, I should be," he shrugged.

"Well, be thankful for small blessings," I advised.

"You sure are weird," Two-Bit commented, cocking an eyebrow.

"For a Canuck or just weird in general?" I asked.

Well, I suppose he figured I was just weird in general after that statement. I thought the same thing about him. He was weird, for a Yank.

"Are we late?" Dally asked walking in, pinching a Kool between his fingers and putting it in his pocket.

"Nah. We wouldn't dream about starting without you, Dally," Steve said and I saw him trying really hard not to roll his eyes.

Dally looked like he was going to tell Steve off, but I sneezed, and Two-Bit smirked at me.

"Yeah, I know," I said before he could say anything.

My best friend back home always said my sneezes sounded like the mice she had in her basement once. I hated it. I could tell Two-Bit wouldn't wait long to say something else and I was thankful when Darry broke the quiet.

"Well, we might as well go play."

Now, growing up in Toronto, I had seen my fair share of football games. The Argonauts were pretty good and my high school football team held its own, but it was nothing compared to this. You would have expected the game to resemble a three ringed circus, especially with Two-Bit as the ringleader. Darry must have had them all playing football every weekend since they were small. There was no fooling around; they all played like they'd been showing off for years. Yes, they were showing off.

Soda was constantly bumping into people, Ponyboy was running faster than everyone else, Two-Bit was acting goofier than usual and Darry was acting like this was the Grey Cup. I think Dallas, Steve, and Johnny were the only ones that weren't trying to show off. Dallas was too tough for that and I don't think he really cared about what I or any other girl thought about his playing. Or anything else about him. Or if people cared…period. Come to think of it, he was a little depressing that way. Anyways, Johnny was too shy. I felt for him. Believe it or not, I was shy, too. Well, not here, but at home…well, I was shy when I was younger. Steve, well, I knew for a fact he could have cared less about what I thought. He didn't have to show off because I would be gone at the end of the summer and we would never see each other again, unless there was some big reunion of Mark's family that he decided to go to. I doubted that one, but I knew I wouldn't go, either, unless I couldn't hire someone to push my imagined version of old Mark's wheel chair around. I sighed and watched Steve set his jaw. No, I was pretty sure we would never see each other again.

By the time they were a little tuckered out, I let Soda talk me into playing. I was nervous as all get out, but I let him lead me out into the playing field and show me where to stand.

"We'll be gentle and you'll do fine," he assured me.

I nodded, not at all sure he was telling the truth, but I was willing to try. Soda had those dark, gorgeous eyes that let you trust him and I was so lost in them I barely noticed the glares Steve was sending everyone. He didn't want to have to explain bruises to Tony and Laurie and I didn't want to, either. I almost thought him chivalrous, then the ball landed in my arms and I had no more time to think. Two-Bit came running at me and I squeaked before running in the opposite direction. Dallas got in front of me and chased me back towards Two-Bit who was grinning madly. I ducked under his arm and Dallas tackled him as I ran. I almost thought I was going to score a point when my legs got all tangled up with someone's arms and I fell into the warmed grass. It was itchy and dead, but it broke my fall. I looked around and found Ponyboy looking at me with his ears burning.

"Looks like Ponyboy beat me to it," Two-Bit commented walking over to us. "I was lookin' forward to wrapping my arms around those legs."

Ponyboy let go of my legs like they where red-hot and Steve cuffed Two-Bit around the ears. I blushed and let Darry help me up, the ball still tucked under one of my arms.

"You almost made a touch down, after you started in the right direction," Soda congratulated me.

"I'm sorry about that," I apologized.

"Hey, Dallas pointed you in the right direction," Soda shrugged taking the ball from me. "I guess we'll line up here."

Everyone nodded and we all crouched on either side of the line. I thought it was ridiculous to stand there like that, but I thought a lot about football was ridiculous. You couldn't throw the ball after you'd gone forward with it so far, you couldn't run towards your own end - even if you had a goof of a Greaser on your tail, and you apparently had to kiss the winning team. I was doubtful on that part, though, mostly because Two-Bit said it and I couldn't see any of them kissing other boys. I knew that some guys did swing that way, but I liked to think Steve would have mentioned if any of them were so inclined…

I shook my head and watched Soda pass the ball to Steve. He ran towards the end where we got points and Soda blocked both Ponyboy and Johnny from going after him. Dallas had tackled Two-Bit by this point which left…Oh no. Why me?

I watched as Darry went after Steve, relieved he wasn't after me, and realized that I was the last 'blocker'. I sighed, figuring I could at least get a hold of one of Darry's arms and perhaps distract him so Steve could score a point. I did managed to get a hold of one of his arms, but I didn't slow him down any. He dragged me behind him and I let go as he jumped on Steve, sending them both sprawling. I heard Soda cheer, since Steve had crossed the line marked by the beer bottle and the old shoe before he was tackled. I clapped and Steve looked very smug, even though he was covered in grass.

"You gave it a good try," Darry said, patting my arm.

"She tried to take you down?" Dallas gave me a look that basically said I was insane.

I stuck my tongue out at him and Darry gripped his shoulder hard. What was it Steve had said about Dallas? Oh, I remember now: Don't piss him off. I pulled my tongue back into my mouth and looked at my shoes thoughtfully as he brushed past both Darry and I. I looked up again and turned to Soda.

"I can't tackle any of you," I pointed out. "Can't I use a stick or something?"

"What was it we used to do with Ponyboy when he was little, Darry?" Soda asked his brother thoughtfully, ignoring my suggestion.

"Two-hand-touch football," Darry answered, "I suppose that would work for her. Hey, guys, bring it in. From now on, if Becca touches you with both hands, its counted as a tackle, got it?"

They all nodded and I smiled at them gratefully.

"Then let's play some ball."

The rest of the morning passed like that. Our team lost by a few points, but we were all grinning. The two-hand thing worked out well, even if it was ignored most of the time, especially by Two-Bit. I finally jumped on Two-Bit and unbalanced us both, which had both of us sprawled out in the grass, right in front of where Ponyboy was running with the ball. He tripped over us and Soda recovered the ball from where he'd dropped it. It was the last touchdown – yes, it's called a touchdown – of the game.

We'd gone back to Darry's house for lunch and laughed over the game for an hour or so. I had a few bruises coming on, but I had earned them and I wouldn't have traded them for the world. Two-Bit commented on the one under my chin, telling me it made me look like a 'tuff' chick. I didn't understand, but it seemed to be a compliment, so I smiled along with that and chewed the bit of peanut butter and jelly sandwich in my mouth. I told him he was a 'tuff' guy too and was rewarded with a grin before the other boys laughed at him. He didn't seem to mind it. I remember him telling me a few days ago that as long as they had him to laugh at, they had something to make their problems go away for a while. I guess he wasn't a total joker; in fact he was kind of smart in that street-wise, life's lessons kind of way. If he would only be less of a joker, a gal would snatch him up.

It was mid-afternoon when I hinted to Steve that I needed to go back to his place so I could shower and change. He usually would have made me wait an hour on him, but today he seemed to be in a charitable mood and only made me wait long enough so he could remind Soda about something about a car from work. I smiled, thinking they both should live in a garage, since they practically did already. I didn't mention it to Steve, in fact, neither of us talked on the way back to his home. It was the first comfortable silence we had shared. It was a start.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

Later that night, we went over to the Dingo. Steve was just as gussied up as I was, which surprised me. I had the feeling he really liked Evie, or he was hoping that she thought he did enough to let him get up her skirt. I sighed, trying to put Toronto out of my mind. Around here, Greaser girls put out after a few dates, sometimes even on the first one. I sighed. They must not have much self-respect…

When I met Evie, I figured what little self-respect she did have was all put towards her appearance. I hadn't met any of the Greaser girls personally, but I figured out from seeing the ones that I had, that they all wore too much make up, not enough clothing, and were loud and crude. If those standards were correct, Evie was living up to them well. She sat across from me in the booth practically shouting and smacking her lips continually around a piece of bubble gum. Steve didn't seem to mind and I smiled back, politely at her.

"So, you're Canadian. Are they all Socs?" she asked when the food came.

"Umm, well, we don't have Socs where we're from," I explained. "Our family is well off, but where I am from, it doesn't really matter."

"So if ya don't have Socs or Greasers, who fights?" she asked, confused.

"Well, mostly we have school rivalries and there are professional gangs that fight, but I grew up in a pretty quiet neighborhood."

Evie chewed her bubble gum for a minute after that and asked Steve to get up so she could go to the 'can'. He slid back into the booth and leaned back into the abused upholstery.

"I don't think she likes me," I answered my own unasked question.

"Evie just needs to get used to you. She ain't used to other girls in my life. She barely likes Sandy." Steve shrugged.

"Who's Sandy?" I asked.

"Sodapop's girl," he said simply.

I nodded. That explained everything perfectly. I glanced at Steve, thinking he wasn't all that bad looking, even if he was grumpy so often. He should have been able to find a better girl than Evie. I didn't dislike her. I just thought Steve could have found someone he had more in common with. She had talked and asked me questions, but whenever she had paid attention to Steve, all she talked about was herself and cut him off so he didn't even bother more than 'yeahs' and yeps' when they were talking.

"Do you like Evie?" I asked suddenly.

"I'm dating her," he answered bluntly.

"That's not what I asked."

He was going to answer when Evie herself curled up next to him, eating the few fries he had left. He looked at her with a look I couldn't place, but didn't say anything. The rest of our meal followed on that awkward note. Finally, Steve suggested that he should drive Evie home and get me back to his place. Evie had cast a quick look at me before pulling Steve off to the side, where she assumed I would be out of hearing range.

I wouldn't repeat what she said for all the beavers in Canada, but the basic tone of the conversation was that they could have 'a good time' if he dropped me off and they 'parked' for a while. I had been looking away, but I know Steve had looked my way before telling her it had been a long day and that they could 'park' anytime. She had pouted and batted her coated eyelashes at him, but he had put his foot down. He looked tired and I had to admit that he made a point: it had been a long day. I felt myself stifle a yawn as I slid into the back seat. Evie's chattering had almost put me to sleep by the time we had dropped her off at her home. Steve had walked her to the door and I had climbed over the front seat- not very ladylike, especially in a frilly skirt- so I could sit in the front on the way home. Steve didn't say anything when he closed the door and started the engine, but he looked as tired asI felt.

The drive home was quiet, but comfortable. I was nearly asleep when we got home. I couldn't think of anything else to call it and 'Steve's house' was too long. I was feeling very lazy and sleepy. I walked behind Steve up to the house, rubbing my eyes and feeling like I was a two-year-old who had been out past its bedtime. Steve seemed to be in the same place I was, but he opened the door for me and closed it behind us. I really wished he hadn't.

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	4. An understanding

Ok, these were posted like fifteen minutes apart, so enjoy the effeciency!

Disclaimer: The usual

Warnings: Lots of language and some violence

Chapter 4

"Captain's log; day…. well, more like early, early morning eight on the Alien planet. Last night was one of the most frightening and yet…rewarding of all of the ones I have spent here. It leaves little to be recorded in the Ship's log, but I would like to note that Alcohol and bad tempers don't mix."

I sighed and folded up the piece of paper I had been writing on. I looked around the darkened kitchen feeling warm and safe. That was another trait of Darry's house; you couldn't help feeling warm and safe within its walls. It was nothing like ho – Steve's house. You could tell people loved each other here and the lack of beer bottles was settling, as well. It made you feel like nothing could touch you here, but it was an illusion, like everything else.

I glanced over at the phone, thinking about calling my mom, my dad, Bobby, even Mark, but I didn't. I could get away from all this, but Steve couldn't. I sighed and thought over what had happened, again, just so I could get it straight in my own head.

/-/-/-/-/-/

Steve closed the door behind us and moved to turn on the light. I was grateful. He knew the house well enough to move through it like a ghost, but I was both tired and unaccustomed to moving through it in the dark. I didn't want to wake up anyone and get in trouble, especially when I was a guest here. They probably wouldn't mind because I was a guest, but they would be plenty annoyed with me. I was probably thinking the same thing he was, but it was different for him. He lived here.

I hadn't noticed the glow off the TV until Steve caught my arm. I noticed he hadn't bothered with the light after all and I moved to turn it on myself. He grabbed that arm too and kept his eyes on where Tony's chair was. I looked over there, too. Tony's eyes were lifeless and blank in the glow off the TV. I had always been told TV rotted your brain, but this was ridiculous.

I made to pull my arms away from Steve, but he didn't let me go. I hadn't remembered him signaling me to be quiet, but I was as silent as he was. For some reason, this seemed very important. Steve looked down at me with a very serious look on his face. I was scared right then and froze in his grasp. He gently let my arms go, almost leaving them feeling exposed without his protective grasp. I slowly turned my head to look over at Tony again. He was no longer looking at the TV; he was looking right at the two of us. His expression was foggy, but it was sharpening to anger, deadly anger, as he watched us. It hit me right then that Steve wasn't just respectful of his father, absurdly so it seemed – (believe me, I had sat through the awkward dinners with Steve at one elbow and Tony at the other and had constantly wondered over it) - he was afraid of him. That was when I noticed the increase of beer bottles around his chair and scent of alcohol. He was drunk and Steve was scared.

I wanted to grip onto Steve for everything I was worth and make a dash for the door, but something in Tony's gaze held the both of us in our spots. I didn't believe in hypnotism, but I was about to become a firm believer in it. Steve finally managed to move and he put some distance between us. I didn't like that at all, but it seemed like he was in front of me, now, which made me feel a little more protected than I had a right to. This was Steve. He wasn't a knight in shining armor, he wasn't gallant, but he was protecting me even though I could tell he was scared shitless.

"Hi, Pop," he greeted.

"Where the hell have you been, boy?" he asked.

"Out," Steve answered.

"Don't you get smart with me, boy. I asked you where the hell you've been," Tony repeated, raising himself out of his chair.

"What the hell does it matter to you, old man?"

No, Steve, no, I groaned inwardly as Tony crossed the space between them. His stride was steady, his eyes where cold and his fist was tight. He was drunk, but not drunk enough for my taste.

"Want to say that again, boy?" he asked glaring at Steve.

"You heard me. I asked what it was to you, you old, drunk bastard," Steve repeated.

I closed my eyes tight, knowing I was going to hear the thud of skin taking a blow from skin at any moment, but it didn't come and I opened my eyes, surprised. Tony was glaring at Steve, who was glaring right back. It was like stand off.

"Smart assed bastard," Tony commented, waiting for something.

Steve grunted in reply and held out his hand to me, still looking right in Tony's eyes. I slid mine in his and he brought me close to him taking a step towards the stairs. Tony looked at me and I gaped back I had never been around a drunk before, and I didn't know how to handle it. So I did what had never come naturally to me; I kept my mouth shut.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" Tony demanded.

"To bed. It's late," Steve answered calmly- it was about time.

"Just like your mother," he commented vaguely before looking at me again and speaking in a raised tone "I won't have it under my roof."

"Won't have what?" Steve asked irritably.

Suddenly, Tony had a hold of my arm. It was a bruising hold and it hurt. I grabbed at his arm with both of my hands, looking into eyes that no longer glowed with the TV. They where dark and dead looking. I wondered if it took all those bottles to make him look so soulless or if it was something more.

"I told Laurie I didn't want another tramp under my roof," he said and I wasn't sure if he was even talking to me "Just like his mother and you, just like my brother. Coming around here and flaunting everything of his that is better than what I have, acting like he is better than me. Well, I'll show him."

If I was scared before, I was terrified now. Tony drew his hand back, as if to hit me and I shrank from it. I felt Steve's hand grab my other arm as he ripped me away from the bruising hold. I hid behind him, watching Tony from behind his back. Tony's hand was still raised and he swung it this time. Steve stiffened as the open hand hit the side of his face, but other than that he hadn't moved. I felt the tremor of anger or possibly fear run through him and wanted to shrink until I was too small to see, like a germ. I had the feeling I could help Steve if I was out of the way. Maybe I could become the mouse I was always compared to and I could hide in his pocket. Why I was thinking such strange thoughts was beyond me. Why I hadn't bolted to the door was as well. I was going to have to start looking for answers and just stop thinking such strange thoughts when Steve and I could both be murdered in this very living room. Would anyone ever find our bodies?

"You both get the hell out! I won't have it under my roof! You hear me, boy? I won't have it!" Tony screamed.

Steve didn't seem to need any other encouragement. He groped for the doorknob, still glaring at the creature he called father, and ushered me back out into the night before slamming the door. We heard a beer bottle crash against it, but neither of us was about to stop, not for all the Salmon in the sea.

Steve practically dragged me to the car and roughly shoved me into the front seat. He slammed the door after me and rounded the car so he could slam the driver's door, too. I reached for my seatbelt and had it buckled just as Steve took off down the street. I didn't know how to handle this, either, so I kept my mouth shut still. The fast, dangerously so, driving seemed to be calming Steve down and I could deal with it. After what had happened at the house, I was petty sure I couldn't handle Steve mad at me. He finally pulled over and turned off the engine.

I took a quick glance at him and sighed. He looked calm, but his eyes were blank and cold like his Dad's. I unbuckled my seatbelt and Steve glanced at me, his eyes looking more human now than they had a minute ago.

"I'm sorry I brought you home to that," he offered after a while.

"Did you know he was going to be drunk like that?" I asked.

"I was sure he wouldn't get like that while you were here, but I suspected he might be," Steve answered.

"It wasn't your fault he was drunk," I stated.

Steve smirked, like there was something funny about what I had said. He looked at me and sighed, like he did when I just didn't get something.

"Pop would argue differently," he sighed. "According to him, he and Mom were going to break up before she found out she was pregnant with me. He had college ahead of him and she knew all she was going to do in life was get married and have kids. But they weren't ready. She trapped him in a marriage neither of them wanted for the sake of a kid neither of them wanted. So he drinks and yells, she jumps and goes to Bingo to get away from him."

I winced inwardly. I was going to have to tell him before I left what Bingo really was…

"So it partly was my fault he was drunk tonight," he added.

"No, it's not. It's their fault. You shouldn't ever think it's yours," I said flat out, hoping he would take my tone seriously.

"No offense, Becca, but you come from a whole different place than I do. You don't understand my life."

"Well, not all of it, but I understand where you're coming from," I sighed and Steve looked at me curiously. "My brother Bobby was why my mom and dad got married."

Steve wasn't smirking anymore. I looked out the window, deciding he had told me his story and I should tell him mine.

"She was from a rich family and he was that wild boy who lived on the other side of the tracks. They dated and all that, but they kept telling themselves they where never serious. She was going to go to University and have her own fashion line and he was going to never grow up. Then they found out Bobby was coming and he decided he could deal with marriage. They were happy, sometimes, but they always worried about bills and Dad was restless all the time. So, when I was about 10, they sat down and talked together. We could hear them yelling at each other after a while and they did for a long time. I was sure they'd got it out of their systems and we could be happy."

I sighed and thought back on how silly I had been at ten. I knew better now that things didn't always go the way you wanted them to. I just wished I hadn't learned it the hard way.

"Well, then they came out and caught Bobby and I standing there listening. My dad came over to us and hugged us both before going into their room and slamming the door. He came out again with a suitcase and said he would see us soon. Mom filed for divorce the next morning, moved on with her life, and I didn't see my dad again until last summer when I went to stay with him out in the mountains. Bobby liked it there so much that I came back to Toronto alone to find mom had a new boyfriend – Mark Randle. I kept wondering why everyone but me was happy, but I hadn't been happy in so long that it didn't matter."

I fingered the hem of my skirt, wondering why I hadn't told anyone else that. Maybe it was because Steve wasn't exactly family, but he wasn't exactly a stranger, either. I would most likely never see him again after the summer was over and yet we had a bond. I wondered if that was why Steve had been able to tell me what he had?

"They didn't hit, he didn't drink, and she didn't sleep around, but it wasn't a happy home and Bobby continually felt like it was his fault. It wasn't his, it was theirs. But if they hadn't stuck it out, I wouldn't exist," I added, "You wouldn't be the same person you are now, Steve. You might not have known Soda or found your love for cars. You can't blame yourself. They made the decisions you live with now."

Steve looked over at me and I dared a look at him. He looked like he was actually thinking about what I had said.

"I guess things are rough all over," he said after a while.

"I think you got it rougher," I admitted looking at the faded red mark on Steve's cheek "Does he hit you often?"

"Only when he's drinking," Steve answered, "He drinks a lot, but I usually spend the night somewhere else or I come home late enough that he's already passed out. Tomorrow morning he'll be sober and he'll be guilty and we'll both get five bucks, maybe ten for you. It won't make up for it, but at least he won't have that money to spend on booze."

I nodded. It wasn't right, but Steve had a point; at least he wouldn't be spending it on alcohol.

"Where will we be spending the night?" I asked suddenly thinking about it.

"Darry and Soda let me crash at their place on nights like these. They won't mind if you're there, too," he answered starting the car up.

"Do they have ice there?" I asked.

"Why? Did he hurt you?" Steve asked looking me over.

"No, but you could use some. Your cheek is a little swollen."

"I've had worse than a swollen cheek," he assured me looking amused "I'll be fine."

"You're sure?"

"If it'll make you feel better, I'll put up with the ice," he said after I sent him what I hoped was a sad look.

"It will," I answered buckling up my belt again.

We where quiet for a bit as Steve drove slowly through the neighborhoods. I guess neither of us had anything to say, but there was something tugging at the back of my mind.

"Why don't you leave for good, Steve?" I asked after a while.

"I'm a minor, for one," he reminded me "And if I did, he would take it out more on Mom. If I'm around, he lays off her."

I looked over at Steve, thinking he was a little gallant after all. Ponyboy had told me, after I coaxed it out of him, that Steve was a bit of an asshole. I suppose he felt that way because there was no way he was ever going to have a talk like this with Steve. Steve was an asshole, but a gallant one.

He opened my door for me when we pulled up out front of the Curtis', mostly because I hadn't noticed we'd stopped and this was his hint to me. I followed him up to the darkened house and we quietly snuck in through the front door, which Steve assured me was always unlocked. I couldn't see a thing and Steve wasn't as used to moving around this house in the dark, so I reached for where the chipped lamp sat beside the couch and flicked it on. The living room was empty, but warm in the lamp's glow. I relaxed then and I could tell Steve did, too. He sat down in Darry's armchair and closed his eyes tiredly. I had forgotten how tired I had been an hour ago, but it was coming back to me. I decided I'd better find that ice before I nodded off. I quietly crept into the kitchen and gathered some in a tea towel. I noticed that for three big boys like Darry, Soda and Ponyboy, there was surprisingly little food. They must have been getting ready to go to the store soon. I shrugged it off, thinking I had other things to worry over, like where the bathroom was, and if Steve was going to be any help. I wandered back into the living room and handed Steve the cloth full of ice. And instead of pressing it to his hurt cheek he looked at it dumbly. I didn't bother tutting at him. I took the ice from him and gently pressed it against his cheek. He winced and yawned under my hand. I held it there for another few minutes as Steve tried to stay awake. It looked like he was drifting off, so I asked he most important question I had had all night.

"Steve? Can you show me where the bathroom is?" I asked quietly.

"Middle door in the hallway," he offered opening his eyes "I'll show ya and see if I can dig you up something to sleep in."

"You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, I do," he answered.

He pushed himself out of the chair and led the way down the hall. I followed him, having nothing better to do. He flicked on the light to the bathroom and I thanked him. He pulled the door mostly closed before walking down the hall a little further and opening another door. I waited in the dimly lit hallway until Steve reappeared with a t-shirt and shorts in his arms. He old me they were going to be big on me, but I wouldn't have to sleep in my puffy skirt. I smiled at him then and shut myself in the bathroom. I didn't know how Steve knew that it was uncomfortable to sleep in a crinoline, but I didn't really care. I assumed the clothing was Soda's or Ponyboy's and I was going to get a lot of stares tomorrow morning, but, yet again, I didn't care.

The grey T-shirt's sleeves didn't quite cover the newly forming bruises on my arm. I sighed, figuring I should be grateful that I hadn't gotten belted across the face like Steve had. Pulling the drawstring on the shorts as tight as it would go, I made my way back to the living room where the lamp still glowed. Steve had taken his jacket off and was sleeping comfortably in Darry's chair. I thought he was sweet to have given me the couch and the mound of blankets upon it. I picked one up from the pile and tucked it around his shoulders before curling into my own blankets. I sighed and turned off the lamp, feeling safe and warm. I couldn't fall sleep, though, and I knew why, too. I had gotten used to writing in that damn journal Bobby had bought me last year. I always did before bed and I was missing it now. I wasn't about to go and get it, especially on my own, so I sighed and counted sheep for a while. Sheep 237 was when I gave up and crept into the kitchen again. I was used to the dimmed lighting in here, thanks to the street lamp, and looked around for the pad of paper Darry wrote out the grocery lists on. I finally found it and flicked on a light to write.

/-/-/-/-/-/

I looked back down at my note and thought about what else I could add.

"I would also like to note that the Alien creature referred to as Evie is not one of my favorites. Steve could do better."

I folded the paper, again, and slipped it into my back pocket, well, Soda or Pony's back pocket, and turned off the light. I crept back into the living room and under my blankets. I didn't have to count sheep or check in on Steve. I was ready for a well-deserved nap. I closed my eyes and faded into dreaming.

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted. 

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	5. Ok in my Books

A slower chapter, but we all need one of those once in a while.

Disclaimer: The usual.

On with the shoe!

Chapter 5

"Captain's log; personal. Over the past week I have learned a lot about the Alien planet known as Tulsa and the alien representative, Steve. Steve, I learned, **is** always right about everything. So much so that he is insufferable, despite the fact."

The morning after Tony had hit Steve, he received five dollars. I had received ten, two dollars for every finger mark, as Steve had pointed out. I had given Steve the money, ignoring his refusals. What was I going to do with ten American dollars? I would just end up exchanging it when I got back to Toronto and with how much lower the American dollar was, I found it to be a waste of time when I knew Steve could use it for his car or a couple dates or something new for himself. It wasn't charity. It was my payment for his escort and putting it that way made the pair of us feel a lot better about the situation.

Over the next week, Steve actually invited me to go places with him without the pointed looks from his mother or me asking. And the most shocking part of all was that we actually had fun and laughed and just kept each other company. Sodapop was with us most of the time and sometimes he brought Ponyboy, but Steve really couldn't stand him and he was so shy and always blushing. I liked him just fine, but even I was kind of hoping Soda wouldn't invite him anymore. Then there were the nights when we didn't get past the Curtis front porch because we were too lazy, tired, or there was nothing better to do.

It was one of those nights again and I was fairly certain I was going to sweat to death. I hadn't bothered trying to look nice today and was actually in the shorts and T-shirt again. They evidently belonged to Ponyboy and he had been mortified by that revelation, enough so that he told me they were his gift to me and may they do me some good. I had blinked and Two-Bit had laughed while Darry looked like he was storing this away for when Ponyboy bought up the topic of new clothes. I smiled at the memory as I made some lemonade. I had sprung for real lemons down at the market and I didn't mind. I had barely made a dent in the spending money Mark and Mom and had given me and I wanted lemonade with a passion. I had to go and ask one of the old ladies over at the church how to make it, but that was more embarrassing for Steve than it had been for me. He had apparently been there once and dropped a hymnbook during mass. Those ladies remembered everything. I was still smiling over the one that squinted up at Steve and asked him if he still had slippery fingers while he blushed a bit and told her he was quite recovered.

I clanked the spoon in the old pitcher a few more times for good measure and took a sip. It was sweet, but still bordering on tart. Just the way I liked it. I dropped the spoon into the sink and frowned. Now how was I going to get the glasses and the pitcher out of the kitchen? I poked my head into the living room where the TV was turned off and no one was around. I supposed I was just going to have to carry an armload at a time. No, that was ridiculous. There were seven able bodied boys here that could carry glasses.

"Steve?" I hollered.

"What?"

"Come help me with something."

I heard footsteps out on the front porch where most everyone was watching the fireflies and listening to the latest brag story. I set the glasses down and pushed a strand of hair from my eyes while I waited.

"What do you need?"

I was shocked to look up and find Dallas Winston standing there looking annoyed, but contained. It had been explained to me that Dallas was being nice and keeping his language clean because I was Steve's cousin and not 'some broad off the streets'. I figured he was pretty bored if he was helping me, though, because as far as I knew, he really could have cared less to help anyone.

"I can't carry the pitcher and the glasses. Would you mind carrying something for me, please?" I asked in my sweetest tone with a smile.

He didn't say anything as he reached for the glasses I had set out. I grabbed the pitcher and a couple glasses myself before leading the way out to the front porch.

"It's about time! Did you go and pick the lemons off the trees?" Two-Bit asked, teasing.

"Pretty close," Steve said standing up to take the glasses from me "We looked at lemons for fifteen minutes this afternoon."

"I had a heck of a time finding nice lemons," I explained, helping pass out the glasses.

"Then, if that wasn't enough, we had to go and ask the church ladies how to make lemonade from scratch," Steve shook his head and held out his glass for me to fill.

"It was an adventure," I sighed, pouring some for him and then moving to fill Dallas' glass.

"You didn't have to go to the trouble," Darry pointed out as I poured his glass.

"I figured why not? I'm bored as it is."

"Bored? You're gonna have to start ditching Steve, Baby, and hanging out with me," Two-Bit piped up.

"Oh? And what would we do?" I asked, pouring Johnny a glass.

"What wouldn't we do?" he asked and Steve threw him a dirty look.

"I'm flattered by the offer, but I think I prefer just hanging around with Steve for now," I answered, finally pouring myself a glass.

"Suit yourself," He shrugged. "Hey, didn't you put sugar in this?"

"Of course she did," Steve answered holding my glass while I sat down beside him with the now close to empty pitcher. "You just don't taste it because you put too much sugar in everything."

Two-Bit grinned and took another sip, but didn't have anything to say back to Steve. I took my glass from Steve and sighed contentedly. I had cooked dinner and done the dishes before I had made the lemonade and this was pretty much the first time in half an hour that I had had the chance to sit down and relax. I ran my hands around the glass, enjoying the coolness and the feel of it against my hands. I took a sip and looked over at where the rest of the boys had fallen silent. I wanted to laugh. I highly doubted they knew I could hear every word of the stories they were telling from where I was in the kitchen scrubbing pans. I hadn't said anything and just blushed when the stories got to the 'good' parts and scrubbed the pans a little harder. I supposed Darry figured they weren't appropriate to tell with me right out here. Boys were odd creatures, indeed.

I pulled the tie from my hair and ran a hand through it to maybe help cool myself off. It would be a bit cooler in a few minutes and I would be cold, but for now I was enjoying what I had.

"So, how was work?" I asked Steve who looked like he was about to drop off to sleep.

"It was pretty good," he answered, remembering I hadn't come with him today. "We worked on a '55 Roadster that was pretty tuff. Ain't that right, Sodapop?"

"Yep, it was a tough car. Candy apple red and black interior with a sparkling clean engine." Soda nodded, taking a sip from his glass. "Which was its problem, of course."

"Why's that a problem?" I asked.

"See, a car runs on oil and grease to lubricate things and if there is nothing to do that, the gears grind down and don't turn as well, building up friction which can ruin the engine," Soda explained. "Makin' a week's worth of work for both me and Stevie here."

"I suppose that's a bad thing?"

"Lord, Becca. I think I'll cry if you ever own a car some day," Steve shook his head.

"When you get it, you call me and I'll teach ya how to drive, Becca," Two-Bit gallantly offered.

"You let him teach you and I'll cry along with Steve," Darry said, setting down his empty glass where it wouldn't get kicked.

"I've never had an accident," Two-Bit reminded him.

"You never got your brakes fixed and you have how many outstanding speeding tickets?" Steve asked.

"That's between myself and the fuzz," Two-Bit replied. "But since you're asking, 8."

Dallas glanced over at Two-Bit and I remembered being told he had a record a mile long and probably a dozen times as many tickets as Two-Bit had. I stopped myself there. I was starting to become the town busybody. I knew more about people by hearsay than I did about them from themselves. Not that Dallas Winston was ever going to walk over to me and say 'I have a record a mile long and I might just be a bit nicer to Johnny than I am to everyone else' or that Steve was ever going to say 'Yeah, I hate Ponyboy because I'm jealous of the way Soda drops everything for him and I hate being at home for more than an hour at a time because my dad is a drunk and my mother sleeps around'. I sighed. Give me a group of girls any day. I would have known exactly what was going on with every one of them within a week directly from them and gladly so.

Steve was smirking. I had smiled myself at seeing it and was shocked to find myself thinking, fondly, that he looked handsome when he did that. It wasn't an 'I think I have a crush on my cousin' moment. It was more of an 'I actually care about Steve like a real cousin or a brother or something' moment and it took me by surprise. I glanced hastily over at where Johnny was pouring himself another glass of lemonade, blushing when he caught me watching him. I shook my head again, thinking the same thing I had most of the night: boys were odd creatures.

The rest of the night was passed with Two-Bit's jokes, what went on at work, good times, and the teasing that came so easily and was in no way serious. I was laughing when he brought up the football game again and everyone else seemed to be joining me. Dallas had left after that and no one bothered to ask why. It was the type of action that told us if he wanted us to know, he would have said something.

It started to get cold and Steve slung an arm around my shoulders, talking across me to Sodapop who seemed to have a different opinion on everything they decided to talk about. Both of them were enjoying the conversation and Steve's occasional laughter went right through me. I thought that was most definitely the coolest thing I had ever experienced. But all good things must come to an end and Darry was the one to remind us of that.

"I have work in the morning and I don't need you monkeys sittin' out here makin' so much noise I can't sleep," he defended. "Thanks for the dinner and the lemonade, Becca. Ponyboy, bed by midnight."

"Sure Darry," Pony replied, watching the fading sky.

Steve sighed and stood up stiffly as one does who has been sitting for a while. He offered me a hand up and I took it, feeling my own legs were stiff all over, too. I stifled a yawn and groaned to myself. It was maybe 10 o'clock! Steve was yawing to and already starting down the front walk. I sighed and waved goodnight before catching up to him.

"I'm beat," Steve declared as we walked back towards his place.

"You know, I was a normal person before I came to Oklahoma. I stayed up past 10:30, slept late and ate veggies. Now, I go to bed early, get up early and eat fried chicken - but I still don't like it."

"What's your point?" Steve asked.

"Well, I didn't have one. I just wanted to point out that normal people aren't tired this early."

"And take another stab at Oklahoma," Steve pointed out.

"You got it."

"One day I'll have to see Canada and then maybe I'll understand you."

"Don't be silly. You'll never understand me."

"You're right, what was I thinking? Unless Canada is full of insane brats like you, I'll never understand you," Steve said sarcastically.

"Funny. We should put you on TV. You'd be a hit on all three channels."

Steve made an amused, yet tired, noise and I was contented to just walk beside him for a time.

"You know, Becca. You may be a brat, but you're ok in my books," Steve said as we got to the front door.

"You know, Steve, you may be an ass, but ditto."

/-/-/-/-/

The next morning I managed to sleep in and woke up at the crack of eight to the smell of fried eggs. I heard Steve yell a hurried goodbye to his mother before the front door slammed. He had said he wanted to get there early so he could get a start on that Roadster he and Soda had gabbed about last night. It would just be Laurie and I today. I flopped back down on the bed, barely able to contain my…excitement…at the prospect. I yawned and rolled over, trying to get back to sleep, but my stomach had other ideas.

"Traitor," I muttered, pulling on a sweater before going down to breakfast.

Laurie was washing up the dishes when I came in with a cigarette hanging out the side of her mouth. She caught sight of me and hastily stubbed it out, assuming I hadn't saw. I didn't care if she smoked or not, but her image in Mark's eyes seemed to be the most important thing in the world to her. So she was not going to smoke or drink or even curse in front of me for fear that I would tell Mark. It made me want to sigh because it was getting old and at the same time I wanted to be indignant at the assumption she had that I would go and tattle on her and her husband at the first chance I had. It just went to prove that some people needed to get to know some people a little better and clean up their own acts. I shrugged and sat down at the table, putting my chin on my knee.

"'Morning, Honey. Are you hungry?" Laurie asked with a forced brightness and I wished for the dozenth time that she wouldn't call me honey.

"Yeah, I could go for some toast," I answered nodding.

Breakfast was a quiet affair with Laurie washing and me just barely functioning at this time of the morning. She finally turned away from the sink with a big, forced smile on her face.

"I have some grocery running to do today and Bingo later on, so you might want to find yourself something to keep you busy all day. There'll be some fried chicken in the fridge that ya'll can heat up for dinner when Tony gets home," she instructed brightly, reaching for her purse.

"Do you enjoy Bingo?" I asked, making her pause.

"Yes, I go every week," she answered smiling at me, still forcibly.

"Have you ever got a jackpot?" I asked.

"Yes, of course."

"What about a blackout?"

"No, that's never happened with the backup generator," she answered, looking at me with a frown. "Why are you so curious all of a sudden?"

"No reason. Just back home, Bingo was a code. If a woman said she was going to Bingo, she met with the guy she was having an affair with," I shrugged innocently.

I put my plate in the sink and tried to not look at Laurie now that she looked both shocked and guilty like you wouldn't believe. Truth be told, I didn't blame her for finding someone more exciting and interesting and loving than Tony, but it wasn't fair to him or more importantly, Steve. I had little faith in the fact that my knowing and now having confirmation would make her change, and I doubt I had expected that. I sighed, wondering why I gave myself so much grief at breakfast time.

"Captain's log; supplemental. The alien hostess has learned I know her secret. I do not doubt there are others, possibly Steve, who also know, but I believe I have made first contact when it comes to this delicate issue. The Prime Directive dictates that I do more harm than what I accomplished this morning. I am more than happy to abide by this. As for making the knowledge public, I have decided against this in the best interests of peace. The crew, if any of them are indeed left, would be highly disappointed in me, if I chose to do any differently. As for my superiors, I have yet to decide on what I will tell them when I am finally rescued from the edge of the Earth, otherwise known as Oklahoma."

I sighed and shut my journal, listening to Laurie walking down the front walk. So much for a simple vacation in the most boring place ever settled. I glanced over at the picture of my dad and wished for the thousandth time since I got here that I had just gone and stayed with him. But then, what about Steve? I would have never met him and his friends if things had have gone differently. It was times like these that I wished I were a guy. Life would have been a lot less complicated.

* * *

Any comments are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	6. A Better Life

Another chapter between my exams. Ugg, I hate exams. They suck. Hopefully the chapter doesn't ;)

Disclaimer: The usual

On with the show!

Chapter 6

"Captain's log; supplemental. Steve has begun my instruction in the sport of pool. I find i**t** an interesting game, but I am sure he is cheating. There is no other explanation for his ability to win every game he plays. I intend to best him and any other alien who wishes to challenge me. We are returning to the arena of this sport: the pool hall. It should be an eventful evening."

A horn honked outside and I set my journal down before hopping off the bed and skidding to a halt in front of the mirror. I fixed my hair and made sure I looked **okay** before grabbing my coat and hurrying down stairs. It was like I was going on a date and I was almost giddy. After the day I had had, this was pure excitement and I told the logical part of my brain to shut up and leave me alone. Steve was waiting in his car, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel along to the music on the radio. He smirked at me as I struggled with the door and finally gave up, looking pointedly at him.

"Would you unlock it, already?"

"What's the fun in that?" Steve asked as he leaned across the seat and unlocked the door before pushing it open.

"For you or me?" Steve smirked and I tried not to smirk as I slid onto the seat and closed the door. "How was work?"

"Work." Steve shrugged, pushing the thing that put the car out of park – if I ever got bored enough, I was sure I could ask Steve what the name for it was and he would tell me – and we started off down the street.

"Wow. I would have never guessed, Steve. Thank you for telling me so much."

Steve smiled at me and I smiled back. He shook his head and slowed the car down to take a corner. I thought that was a good thing. Unlike Two-Bit, Steve knew how to drive. The last time we were in the car with him was a few days ago after a party. He'd taken a few corners on two wheels and I had clutched Steve's arm so hard he finally made Two-Bit pull over so he could drive and I could clutch someone else's arm. I didn't need to with Steve driving. I trusted him when it came to cars and decisions…and I think I relied on him too much, come to think of it. It was like he was some form of aloof mother hen. I'd never tell him that, but I'm sure he knew I relied on him a lot and he never said a word about it. What if he was completely clueless? I shook my headSteve was a lot of things, but clueless wasn't one of them.

"I do the same thing most every day," Steve said after a while. "And you ask me how it was every day."

"Exactly. My life while you're at work exists of reading, writing and avoiding your mother. So, I'll ask again. How was work?"

Steve shook his head and I waited for him to say something. Seriously, since he had left for work at nine AM, I hadn't had a conversation. Laurie was avidly ignoring me since I had pointed out her little secret wasn't so hard to figure out and Tony worked. Even if Tony had have been home, though, I highly doubt we would have spoken. He hadn't so much as glanced at me since he gave me ten bucks after he had hit Steve and bruised my arm. That left Steve's non-working friends. Problem was, I wasn't allowed to go anywhere without Steve, unless Two-Bit or Sodapop or Dallas was escorting me. Well, Soda was at work, Two-Bit is harder to find than a needle in a haystack, and Dallas wouldn't have taken me anywhere. If for some reason he did, he probably would have ditched me so he could go and do what he wanted anyways. As one can see, my options for daily entertainment are pretty limited unless I get up early enough to go to work with Steve. I'd slept in and I had paid for it all day.

"It was fine. Soda and I worked on some cars," he answered and continued before I could point out that that was what they did everyday. "Evie stopped by."

"Oh? And what happened with her?" I asked to keep the conversation going.

"You know what, she's got this fool idea in her head that I spend too much time with you and now that I think on it, it doesn't seem like such a foolish notion," Steve stated, shoulder checking before we took another turn.

"And who else am I suppose to hang out with?" I asked and Steve nodded.

"Exactly what I said to her."

"And?" I prompted.

"And she suggested that you hang out with Ponyboy or something. I'd told her that was a stupid idea and I couldn't just ignore you. She got mad at me and took off," Steve shrugged.

"You don't seem overly concerned." I raised an eyebrow, like Two-Bit had shown me.

"Don't do that," Steve ordered but went on. "She's just huffy because I have been spending more time with you than her. That, and you're only a cousin by marriage. She doesn't trust me and I am just getting tired of her complaining about it. Once you go home, she'll be fine and life as I know it can get back to normal."

I didn't know what to say to that. To tell the honest truth, I avoided thinking about going home. I had been homesick from time to time over the last three weeks and I was dying for another person to use the word 'Eh' correctly, but Tulsa grew on a person. Ok, maybe it didn't, but Steve Randle did. Ok, he was still an asshole, but compared to the asshole he had been when I first arrived, there was a big difference. He was more loose and he didn't treat me like a chore anymore. Plus, since I did spend so much time in his life, I guess I kind of grew on him a little. He didn't seem so constantly annoyed with me and he laughed from time to time when I told him something. Hell, he even smiled and invited me places. He was like an older brother…almost. No one could replace Bobby, but Steve was special. I was going to miss him a hell of a lot when I got home.

I usually stop there when I'm thinking about all this. When I left, there would be no older brother for me back in Toronto. My friends are all superficial and girly and living in dream like worlds because they have too much time and money on their hands. And boys…well, let's just say I didn't keep them as friends. When I went back to Toronto, life would change a lot and as much as I hated to think it, I was comfortable here.

"Hey, Becca?"

I blinked and looked at Steve. He was throwing me odd looks and I noticed the engine was cut. I looked out the window and recognized the dingy old pool hall we had played in the last time we had been out. I guess we were here.

"Yeah?" I answered.

"You feelin' ok?" he asked.

"I'm alright. I was just thinking," I answered.

Steve frowned at me, but he shrugged and got out of the car before he could brilliantly think up anything else to say on the subject. I think I would have cried if he thought we should go home. I'd been in the house all day!

"Becca!"

I jumped and scrambled out of the car over to where Steve was waiting of me on the sidewalk. He sent me a grumpy look and I smiled apologetically before leading the way into the pool hall.

It wasn't really packed because it was a weekday evening, but the people in there weren't familiar faces. I wanted to kick myself. Of course they weren't. The only people I knew in Tulsa were Steve, his parents, and his circle of friends.

"Alright. Which table do you want to play on?" Steve asked.

"The one we played on last time?"

Steve nodded and led the way over. I came along behind him, very conscious of the fact the waitress was giving me weird looks. Well, I guess they weren't so weird. I didn't dress like a greaser, like everyone else in the pool hall. To put it bluntly, I stood out like a sore thumb. I was in a bright pink, loose, knee length skirt while she was in a tight black one that barely came halfway down her thighs. I was in a conservative pink blouse and she was in a black shirt that showed more than it covered up. Add in the pink hair tie that held up my bouncy blonde ponytail in comparison with her long, grungy looking brown curls and it wasn't so weird for her to be sending me looks. I tried not to let it bother me as Steve handed me a stick and 'racked' the balls.

"Ok, you're gonna break," Steve said and I blinked.

"I am?"

"Yeah. Remember, when you take the first shot, it's called a break," Steve informed me and I nodded, relieved I wasn't broken and feeling a little embarrassed at my ignorance.

"Really?" I grinned, most definitely glad that people couldn't hear my thoughts.

Steve nodded and passed me the white ball. I bounced over to the other side of the table and set the ball where Steve had showed me. He always broke when we played, so I guess he thought it was my turn, finally. Either that or he thought I was upset about something and was trying to make everything better. I wanted to roll my eyes at the thought. That wasn't Steve's way. He was an emotional cripple in some ways. He didn't know how to treat people until he knew them really well and he rarely took feelings into account. If I were upset, he would be awkward and out of place and would most likely do or say something to make me mad rather than upset. Living with Tony, I could tell he handled anger better than most other emotions and because he lived with Laurie, I could tell he was good at avoiding them, too. I glanced over at Steve who was watching me as I set up to hit the ball. He deserved a better life.

"Now, you sunk the cue ball."

"The which ball?" I asked.

"This one," Steve said pulling the white ball out of the corner pocket "That would normally mean you lose, but I don't feel like racking the balls all up again."

"No, if I sink the black one I lose," I pointed out. He was just trying to change the rules, again.

"Actually, on the break, if you sink the eight ball you win," Steve informed me "But all the rest of the time, yeah, you'd loose."

"I don't think I like this game."

Steve smirked and moved to take a shot. "You're the one who wanted to learn, smarty."

"That was because I assumed if you could play it would be easy," I countered.

"Well, that says a lot for you, don't it?"

I smiled as Steve sunk another ball. There was another reason why I liked Steve so much. We could have little teasing arguments and he didn't get all heated about it. It sure kept my day interesting and we both never got bored.

"I suppose it does."

Steve missed sinking his ball and backed away from the table so I could take a shot.

"So tell me, how is it that you never learned to play up in Tornado?"

"Toronto," I corrected, leaning on the table for a shot. "I never learned because pool was a boy's game and a poor boys game at that. My friends only have time for doing their hair and going to parties and keeping up with gossip. Now, that's a sport."

My shot missed and Steve sighed, rounding the table so he could take his shot.

"I hate it when you leave me shots like this," Steve muttered, scowling at the half a millimeter I had left him between the white ball and one of my own balls. "Damn, Becca if you hated it so much, why did you keep saying you missed it for the last three weeks?"

"I did miss it. Tulsa was a strange new place I'd never been to before." I shrugged.

"No shit."

"But it doesn't seem all that strange anymore. You and your gang of misfits taught me it was possible to have fun on a dime and that being dirty was ok."

"Hell, evenif that's all we taught you, we deserve medals," Steve commented, sinking his last ball. "It wasn't that hard to figure out, though. That's why there's soap and water."

I rolled my eyes at Steve. He was a real genius…and he just won the game. He had to be cheating. I was going to prove it… somehow…

"Hey, you rack them balls up again and take a few practice shots. I'll be right back."

"Going to powder your nose?" I asked and Steve smirked.

"Yep."

I rolled my eyes and pulled all the balls out of the pockets so I could do just as Steve suggested. I was too much of a push over these days. I was going to have to stop that.

I put all the balls in place and brought back my stick for a shot, but when I went to bring it forward, it didn't move. I frowned at the stick and tried again. Still nothing. I shook it and there was a laugh behind me. I turned around and came face to face with a guy I didn't know… who was holding onto the end of my stick. 'Scar face' was the first thought that came to mind, but I didn't say it out loud. He looked like he could break me in two and I quite liked being in one piece, person, thing…well, you get my drift.

"Well, it just goes to show that Soc girls can't do much right."

"I'm not a Soc!" I defended. "And I can to do things right. I was just hindered by this stick thingy because you held onto it."

The guy smirked and I noticed about three guys behind him were watching this little exchange with smiles plastered on their faces. They must have been the local toughs. What a time for Steve to go to the bathroom…

"I only held onto it because you weren't holding it right," he answered. "You gotta lay your hand out like this. When you hold it like that, you look like you're trying to write with it."

"It's ok for me to do it that way. I'm a girl."

"And who told you that?"

I wanted to smartly tell him that it was obvious I was a girl and no one had to tell me, but I decided it was better not to make him mad at me. He was still big and he was still strong and I was going to stay on his good side if it killed me…or Steve when he got back. I wasn't too concerned about him. So, I told him instead that my cousin had said so. He grinned and moved closer to me.

"Take a shot like that and you'll end up sinking the damn cue ball. Here, spread your hand out like mine," he instructed and I went along with it. "Now, set the cue right there and take a shot."

He was so close to me now that I could smell the cigarette smoke in his clothes and the grease in his hair. I was strangely excited and not at all scared, but that was mostly because we were in a lit pool hall and Steve would come running if I yelled loud enough. At least, that's what I told myself and for the moment it made the whole situation safe. I was like my mother that way. If I could excuse it in my own mind, then I was all right for the moment. I knew that if this had happened to me in my first week here, I would have probably gone running right for Steve, but I guess I had grown a little more confident since I had started hanging out with that smart mouth. If I had confidence, this guy had it out the ying-yang… So I did what he told me and took a shot because I couldn't think of anything else to do. Surprisingly the whole bunch spread apart and I sunk some balls and not the white one. I squeaked with joy and 'Scar face' gave me an odd look, but, regardless, there was still that confident air about him and the sly smirk he had adorned since we'd met returned to his features.

"See, I told you it would work."

"Yes, you did, and I'm glad," I said smiling in return at him. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've been properly introduced."

He gave me an odd look before glancing back over at his friends and then back at me. He was obviously someone who felt he needed no introduction, but I honestly had no clue who he could be. Steve had never described anyone like him, which meant that I was most likely going to get a stern talking to from Steve about talking to tough looking guys like 'Scar face'.

"I'm Rebecca," I offered. "Rebecca Brandt."

"Tim," Steve introduced for me, coming up behind him and looking a little annoyed. "Tim Shepard."

"Randle," Tim greeted.

"Oh, good. You know each other," I said needlessly and I felt pretty stupid when they both looked at me like I was a whack job.

"This is Tim Shepard. He runs the Shepard gang," Steve explained.

"Oh." I guess that would make sense. "I guess that's a good thing."

Steve looked like he was having one of those 'Lord, Becca. Could you be more blonde?' moments, but he refrained from asking and rolling his eyes at me.

"What are you doing hanging out with a Soc?" Tim asked and I bristled again at being called a Soc. "She don't hit me as being a slutty one."

"I'll have you know –"

"Becca," Steve warned and I shut my mouth and folded my arms. "Becca is my cousin."

Tim looked like that was amusing and I wanted to tell him off, but he was a gang leader and I knew if I mouthed off to Darry I would most likely have my mouth washed out. I couldn't imagine what Scar face would do. Something told me it would be a lot worse than soap any day.

"So he told you it was ok to shoot like a moron because you're a girl?" Tim asked and I nodded.

Steve gave me a puzzled look, but I chose to ignore it. I had the feeling Steve wanted to leave and I was nowhere near ready to. This guy Tim shouldn't have intimidated him. After the initial shock, I didn't think he was all that scary. I was sure he could be, though.

"Hey, why don't you come over and play with us?" I offered him the stick and he looked at me with an odd glance that slowly turned into a sly smile.

"I don't think Tim would want to –" Steve started.

"I think I just might," Tim cut him off and took the stick from me. "Hey, Curly. Come play some pool."

The look on Steve's face was one of forced resignation and I kind of felt bad for putting it there, but there was no way in hell I was going to go home before I'd had some fun. This Tim guy didn't seem so bad and Curly…well; he was a few screws short, but he seemed to do what Tim told him to and he left me alone. I thought the two or three games we played were fun.

Tim was an interesting fellow. He would constantly buy Curly, his brother, beers and kept offering them to me, even though Steve repeatedly told him no. I get the feeling people don't often tell him no, but he didn't make an issue out of it. And through all that, he never had one for himself. By the end of the night, I had lost every game I played and I think I gave Steve more to worry on than I had all the rest of the time I had been in Tulsa. Well, I think that was Tim's fault. He was a very up close and personal guy and I could tell Steve didn't like that. He would help me with my shots and brush up close to me and even touch elbows with me. I didn't invite him to do it, but watching Steve was amusing me enough that I didn't bother to tell him to stop and I was sure that was why Tim was doing it. What can I say? Every girl likes a little male competition every once in a while, regardless if the guy was her cousin by marriage or not.

When Steve finally decided it was time for us to pack it in – for real this time – it was barely nine thirty. I protested a bit and Steve looked like he was losing his patience with me.

"The night is still young," I hissed at him, watching Curly take a shot. "And Curly's almost as bad as I am because he's so drunk!"

"And Pop is probably half way through that bottle of Jack Daniels," Steve pointed out. "I'd like to get back before he finishes the whole thing and forgets you're a guest, again."

I looked at Steve and tried to pin point the emotion on his face at that moment. He looked bitter and hard, like nothing could touch him because too much had. That's when I quit playing games and handed my cue to Tim without another word. Steve nodded his goodbye and we made our way out of the hall and to the car. We were barely home when I sighed and Steve threw me a look that clearly said 'what?'.

"You deserve a better life, Steve."

I'd thought it a thousand times over the last few weeks and I still thought it. Unfortunately, I also had just said it aloud, too. Steve pulled the car over and looked over at me with a serious expression. Normally he would have laughed at me and teased me about saying something like that, but instead he turned off the engine and looked over at me. I would have normally wanted to crawl into his pocket and hide at times like these, but I meant what I had said.

"Becca, don't –"

"Steve, I mean it! You have no control over the things in your life that should be steady and supporting you."

"Name one thing," he challenged, looking so sure that I wouldn't be able to name one thing he didn't have control of.

"Your father. He drinks too much and I know he scares the hell out of you when he's like that – even if you won't admit it, I saw it in your eyes the night he grabbed me."

Steve was sitting stiffly in his seat and didn't look like he was going to say anything. I didn't give him the chance.

"He controls your life and the bottle is controlling his. You either have to get in before he gets drunk or you sleep at Darry's house because you don't want to go home to him in a drunken rage about something."

Steve was just looking at me still and I could tell he was a little too stunned for words. I thought for a moment he might reach across the distance between us and smack me or at least shake me hard, but he just glared at me and tossed one arm out the car window while the other one grasped the steering wheel.

"Hell, a lot of people got it worse," he said dryly.

"Not that I can see. Your father baits you along constantly so he doesn't have to feel guilty. Why else would he give you five bucks and just do the same thing the next time he's drunk?" I asked. "It makes me want to cry because it is all so stupid and cruel."

"I'm fine, Becca."

"No, you're not. You put up a front that says other wise, but…" I took a steadying breath. "At least people like Dallas and Johnny just get hit and yelled at."

We sat there for a long time after that and I was pretty conscious of the fact Steve was staring at me. It wouldn't normally have bothered me, but I was trying to swallow the lump in my throat and I could feel the tears welling in my eyes. I raised an impatient hand to my cheek when the first one fell and wondered why I had chosen right then to be such a girl in front of Steve. He probably thought I was the biggest dork he'd ever met. Evie wouldn't have cried in front of him.

"Hey, don't cry."

"I can't help it. Look at how worked up you've got me!"

Steve let out a huff of amusement or defeat – I couldn't tell – but it did nothing to make me feel better. I just wanted to go home right then. I wanted to bury my head in my mother's shoulder and tell her about something worth crying over, like a crush or hurt feelings. I didn't want Steve to remember me as the weirdo from Canada who cried all over his car. I didn't know what I wanted right then. I had to admit I was being pretty irrational and it was entirely his fault! Him and his dumb problems! I was willing to leave out the fact it was nearly that time of the month to make that theory work, too…

"Becca, listen. You're crying over me," Steve pointed out with a small grin on his face that was there to make me feel better. "Crying over dumb old cousin Steve. That won't change anything and now I feel sorry for you."

"Sorry for me?" I asked a little shocked.

"Yep. The poor Canadian girl from Tornado –"

"Toronto!"

" – Who can't get a grip because she's got some dumb idea in her head about things she's not smart enough to understand," Steve finished. "It's down right embarrassing to watch, let alone listen to."

It took a minute for that to sink in, but when it did I bristled and wiped the tears off my face. I glared over at Steve as he started up the car and folded my arms over my chest. Oh, I'd show him! Not smart enough? Ha! I was smarter than he was! I'd seen monkeys with higher intelligences than Steve! He was all talk. See if I ever spoke to him again.

We drove the rest of the way home in silence. I got out of the car as he cut the engine and left the door open so he would have to close it. I was already at the front door when I heard it close. I shut the front door behind me and marched straight to the stairs, ignoring Tony who was out cold in his chair. I closed the door to my bedroom with a slam and closed the window rather hard right after that.

"How dare he?" I asked William Shatner. "Who the hell does he think he is? He insulted both of us tonight and the rest of Canada, too! He's such an arrogant jerk!"

There was no answer from Shatner's beautiful lips and I growled before getting changed for bed. I was rather harsh on my hair in my anger, but I didn't care. I just wanted to get into my nightdress and get into bed. So I did just that, but I was still too mad to sleep. I stared up at the ceiling and thought about that little episode in the car. Steve had insulted me when I was vulnerable. He'd purposely said things he knew would make me mad. He was such a…genius. I blinked at the ceiling and couldn't deny it. He was an emotional cripple. He couldn't handle people being upset, but he could handle anger because you didn't have to comfort anger. And he had actually accomplished what he wanted to – I no longer was upset over him and I no longer pitied him. Ok, that might have hurt his feelings too, but he had made mine feel better at the same time. That jerk had solved everything with a couple well-placed insults and that cocky attitude of his.

I was really starting to hate that boy.

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	7. Odd Greasers

Well, summer is here. Does that mean more updates? I'm not promising anything. I have to work :p

Disclaimer: The usual

On with the shoe!

Chapter 7

"Captain's log; supplemental. The last two days have found Steve out of my good graces. As my prior report indicates, he fully deserves my lack of attention. Because of this, my schooling in the art of pool is on hiatus, permanently, or at least until Steve and I are on the same level again. After talking with Ponyboy Curtis, I have come to the conclusion that Steve probably had every right to be angry over Tim Shepard's behavior. However, this still does not patch up anything between us."

I set my notebook aside, wondering what else I could add in there. I sighed and finally admitted it; my muse was letting me down. The logs were turning out to be rather dull lately. I needed Steve to do something dumb – well, something dumber than the last dumb thing – I could gripe about. Then there would be something log worthy.

There was a knock on the door that drew me from my thoughts and I quickly buried my journal under the pillow. The last thing I needed was for Steve or Laurie or Tony to find out that I actually had something of value up here. What? Some day those logs would be worth a fortune. My grandkids would be rolling in it…

"Yes?" I answered and the door creaked open the slightest bit.

For some unfathomable reason, I really wasn't all that surprised to see Ponyboy Curtis stick his head through the door. It seemed like the kid knew everything and he was generally on bad terms with Steve anyways, so we'd been hanging out with each other more and more over the last two days. I'd just headed over to the Curtis' by myself for the past two days, but Steve was in a bit of a tizz over that after dinner last night. So I told Ponyboy he could just come and meet me here, so I technically wouldn't be going anywhere on my own and Steve would have nothing to grumble over. It seemed like the perfect solution to me. It was bound to backfire at some point, obviously, but hopefully that wouldn't happen for another couple days.

"Hey," he said quietly, like he was afraid of the house. I didn't blame him there; Steve only ever showed up at their place when things got too rough here to spend the night and Ponyboy had a great imagination.

"Hey, Beckers!" I groaned.

"Hi, Two-Bit."

"Well, if a 'hi Two-Bit' is all I get for bustin' you out of this place…"

I glanced at where he was trying to scoff, but he was failing miserably. He was too busy looking around the room and right at the ceiling. I felt my heart jump in my throat as he frowned at the poster above my bed. He opened his mouth and I shot off said bed and pushed them both out into the hall before either of them could say a word. I knew it would be too late as I shoved them out, but if the visual reminder was behind closed doors, then maybe the ribbing wouldn't be so bad.

"Wasn't that the space dude?" Two-Bit asked

"The Space Dude?" I asked, bristling a little bit "That was Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship –"

"Never mind. I don't want to know that badly." Two-Bit raised an eyebrow at the closed bedroom door anyway and I huffed before leading the way down the stairs.

"So, what are we doing today?" I asked, still looking straight ahead.

"We're going to spend the day like we do every day," Two-Bit answered.

"Great, so we're going to sit around the house all day listening to your stories and then, when we finally get bored of that, we'll end up in the lot sitting around and listening to your stories," I summed up. "What fun…"

"Hey, my stories are quality entertainment! I'll have you know that if I wanted to, I could sell them to someone," Two-Bit said with little conviction.

"Why don't you then?" Ponyboy asked

"Because –"

"That would be too much like work," Ponyboy and I finished for him, receiving a grin in return.

"Exactly." Two-Bit nodded. "Hey, Johnnycake!"

I sighed. If I had to describe Two-Bit in one word it would be distracted. That's what he always was. His short attention span and his love for random, shiny things just completed the picture. I shook my head and wondered when I had become so introspective.

"Hey, y'all," Johnny greeted.

"I call you over here to be sociable and all I get is a 'hi y'all'? Hell, Becca at least gave me a 'hi, Two-Bit' and she's grouchy."

"Two-Bit, I am not grumpy," I grumbled .

"No, you're grouchy. Have been since you and Steve had your little tiff."

I growled more to myself. For two days, this was all Two-Bit had turned the conversations towards. I think it was just the fact Steve was the one I had the problem with. I spent more time with Steve than Two-Bit and he was rubbing it in that we weren't getting along. It made one wonder.

"Want to start another 'little tiff'?" I asked, not really meaning it. Who could stay mad at that smile?

"Nah. Got any beer in the fridge, Ponyboy?"

Pony blinked at him for a moment and I think I did a double take as well. Not only were we a block from where said fridge was, but it was also only 10 in the morning. Not even Two-Bit was that much of an excessive boozer.

"Yeah, sure."

"Good. We all need to get good and soused."

I glanced over at Johnny who shrugged back at me. And so we walked side-by-side, leaving Two-Bit to babble onto Ponyboy who seemed to at least act interested in what he was saying. I don't think I could have been happier to walk through the door of Darry's house. It was a Monday and he wasn't home, but I've been through this before. That wasn't why I was happy. The TV was on and Two-Bit was drawn to it like a moth to a flame. Lordy, he must have already been drunk this morning. He was acting odder than usual, that is. And from the looks Ponyboy kept shooting him, I could tell he was a little put off by it, too.

So we spent the morning watching TV, listening to dumb stories and then in the afternoon we did the same. I spent most of that time looking at the wall and thinking on whatever daydream came to mind. Mostly I was off in space, wondering why we never watched Star Trek, but it was perfectly acceptable to watch the same episode of Mickey Mouse over and over again with a break for some Perry Mason. When I got home, I vowed to never watch either show ever again.

"Hey, guys."

"Soda!" I smiled brightly. "Is it five thirty already? Where did the day go! I'll just be getting home then…"

"You are staying for dinner and then we are all going to a movie," Soda corrected and I frowned.

"Since when can you sit still long enough to endure a movie?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Gotta shake things up once in a while."

"You tell her, Soda-cola!"

We both looked at Two-Bit with doubtful looks and I shrugged. He'd been acting like that all day. I was about to comment on it when Soda shrugged and dragged me into the kitchen.

"Ever had purple chicken and green mashed potatoes with pink corn?" he asked and I blinked.

"They come in purple?"

"Not before I get to them, no, but that's half the fun."

"And the other half?" I asked.

"You'll see. Now, you peel the potatoes and I'll cut the chicken."

I nodded and went over to where the potatoes were already soaking. Huh. I hadn't noticed anyone get up to do that. I guess I must have been more entranced with Perry Mason than I thought I was. Well, either that or Ponyboy had super powers. I sighed and wondered why he had left them to soak. I thought they were much easier to peel dry. Still, I made the best of it and even avoided dicing my fingers to bits. I was kind of amazed by that. The last time I had peeled potatoes had ended up with a slice in my index finger the night of a concert I was playing in. Since then Bobby had banned me from even thinking about touching knives. I scoffed at that. I was sixteen and what Soda didn't know meant I got to have fun. Even then I wasn't mad at him. Bobby wasn't Dad, but he tried. And I figured Sodapop should be the one with the sharp and pointy things restriction. He was practically dancing to the music while he sliced chicken.

"Soda, turn that off while you're cutting up the meat," Darry directed when he came into the room looking tired.

"Hi Darry, how was work?" Soda asked brightly and Darry sighed before turning off the kitchen radio himself.

Soda put a little pout on his lips and I shrugged in a 'nice try' fashion. Darry smirked slightly and ruffled Sodas hair. I don't know why he was worried about the music, that hair ruffle was nearly enough to take Soda's hand off. Darry didn't say anything about that, though.

"Hi Darry, how was work?" I mimicked.

"Work," he answered, pulling the pitcher of lemonade out and pouring himself a glass of the cold liquid.

Darry's skin looked hot and I was willing to bet that working under that sun in the open like that was not something he enjoyed doing. He was toned dark now and not for the first time I wished that Mark would open up an office down here and let Darry run it. Sure, he wasn't an architect, but he was a lot smarter than most people Mark employed. He could figure it out and have the place running efficiently by the end of his first month. I would even foot the bill for an air conditioner. I smirked at the image that came to mind. All the boys would go and visit Darry often during the summer and enjoy the perks he would have. I bit my lip and wished I were an old person so I could do that kind of stuff for the people I…well, loved was too strong a word…how about cared for like cousins. But they would have to be related to Steve and not Laurie or Tony. It was clearly easier not to think about it.

As it turned out we had green chicken, pink potatoes and purple corn for dinner that night. Soda hadn't planned it that way, but he said something about things always turning out better when you didn't plan them. I had shrugged at the time and put the potatoes on the table before sitting down between Johnny and Two-Bit. Now, I knew this was a mistake before I sat down, but when there was only one chair left, you had to take it or leave it. Johnny was bound and determined to act like there was nothing going on beyond his plate. Steve said once that Johnny didn't eat unless he was away from home; so eating was a serious business when he got it. Two-Bit, on the other hand, was more than happy so sit and eat and talk and spray food all over me. And they expected me to go places looking like I was on the losing end of a food fight… Sodapop didn't think that was much of an argument when I tried to back out of the movie. He just brushed off all the food and dragged me along with Two-Bit, Johnny and Ponyboy in tow.

They were showing a Paul Newman flick followed by a beach movie tonight. Ponyboy looked like we had made his night and Two-Bit immediately mocked the man, so that left the three of us to watch and shake our heads. By the time we had popcorn and drinks and found seats, the movie was about to start on the big white screen. People were milling around their cars and I figured the movie would be past the credits by the time everyone settled down enough to watch it. Soda got up again and I stayed where I was, unwilling to follow him. Plus, he just proved my point about no one noticing the movie. A minute later he was back, though. I was busy watching the screen when he pushed a Coke in front of my face. I frowned and turned to remind him I already had a Coke when it all clicked.

"You!" I accused.

"Yeah, me," Steve agreed, settling into the seat a little further

"What are you...oh."

No one needed to tell me that this was all a set up to get the two of us in the same place for more than a few minutes. Well, that explained Two-Bit at least. He never did act normal when he had to keep a secret. Well, if you call 'who ate the last piece of cake?' or 'Who knocked pop all over the floor?' a secret. I should have known something was up from the way he was acting and the looks Ponyboy kept throwing him. It was pathetically obvious now.

"Listen. I know you're mad at me and I really don't know why –"

Of course he didn't…who was he trying to kid?

" – but I'm willing to say I'm wrong."

Yeah, like you would ever…What? This was not typical Steve behavior…

"Who are you and what have you done with Steven Randle?" I asked and he rolled his eyes at me in frustration.

"Listen, Becca. I hate to admit it, but I had fun this summer. It was nice to have someone to be around that understood first hand what goes on at home and didn't try and feel sorry for me." He shrugged. "So here; take it so we can go back to that."

I glanced down at the pop and took it from him. He flipped up the collar of his jacket, hunched his shoulders and I resisted the urge to laugh. He really thought after all we'd been through this summer that I was going to dump a cup of pop over his head? I'm not saying I hadn't done it before and he would expect something like that from me, but it just seemed mean when I wasn't in a temper and wasn't all that mad at him to begin with. The last couple days had just been dumb.

"Oh, Steve," I sighed before leaning closer to him.

He flinched, but didn't move away. I don't think he was expecting the peck on the cheek, but he didn't jump or anything. I settled back into my seat and set the Coke by my feet. Steve was blushing and he looked annoyed because of it. I just looked around the drive in and paused.

"Steve, why are we at a drive in with no car?" I asked and he blinked at me.

"Do you always have to ask questions?" he asked.

"Yeah, I do. I mean, we parked a block away just to sit in the stands at a drive in. Hits me as strange to say the least," I informed him and he sighed.

"Do you really want to be in a car for hours with that?" he asked

I glanced at where he was nodding towards Two-Bit, Johnny, Soda and Pony. Two-Bit was talking animatedly with his hands, Johnny was unconsciously ducking under them, Soda was fidgeting and tapping his toes while Ponyboy was completely enthralled with the movie. I pictured all that in a car and shook my head.

"Guess not. Where's your car, Steve?"

"Over a block," he answered "I'll drive you home after the movies."

"And then go out to have fun?" I asked and he sighed.

"This is as bad as dating Evie when she's bleedin'," he muttered. "I'll stay in. We'll play cards or something."

"Good. I know how to play cards."

As it turned out, Steve knew how to play cards too. It was just like playing pool with the guy. He always won and I was certain he was cheating. That's when he explained that Poker and Gin were two completely different games. The most pathetic thing was that he was winning both the game he thought he was playing and the game I thought we were playing. With a sigh of frustration, Steven Randle decided it was his duty to teach me about poker. There were thirty billion different kinds and all the hands couldn't be just reds or blacks. They all had to match and follow orders and I officially hated it.

"Now a full house is when you have these cards," Steve said as he laid out some cards on my quilt

"Why can't we just play Gin?" I groaned. "Poker's too hard."

"Because Gin is a game for old ladies. Poker is what we play here in Tulsa. No self-respecting Greaser would be caught dead not knowing how to play."

The retort of 'I'm not a Greaser' would have been ignored or earned me a dirty look that translated to 'So you're a duck now?'. It was nice he didn't suggest I was a Soc at least, even if I did get the duck look a lot.

"Now, this is a flush. You use these cards and it's a royal flush."

"But what if you get them in black? What do you call them then?" I asked.

"They're still called a flush," he replied, not missing a beat.

"But that makes no sense."

When people were flushed they looked red, not black. The cards should follow the rules.

"Its just a name, it doesn't have to make sense," Steve sighed. "Now –"

"I know how to play Bridge. We could teach Two-Bit and Pony and they could play with us."

Steve sent me a look and I fingered my quilt for a moment. "Yeah, sorry. I forgot who I was suggesting there."

"Now, am I gonna be able to show you the rest of the hands or are you going to keep on making dumb suggestions?" he asked, setting the deck of cards down.

"Let's go dancing!" I suggested.

"Dumb suggestions it is," Steve grumbled. "Dancing?"

"What? Don't tell me you don' know how to dance."

"I do. I just don't dance with my cousins."

"Steve, I'm your only cousin."

"And I'm not dancing with you."

"Meanie."

"Definitely not dancing with you now."

I was about to come up with some brilliant retort when the phone rang. Both Steve and I looked up. The phone had only rung once all summer and it was my mother checking in on me. So to hear it ring at nine-thirty on a Sunday night was kind of…well, odd.

"Becca," Laurie called up the stairs.

"This isn't over," I promised Steve as we got up off my bed "I plan to wipe the floor with you when we get back up here and play Gin."

"Keep telling yourself that," he advised and I rolled my eyes before bouncing down the stairs and over to the phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi Becca."

My stomach sunk right then. "Hi Mark."

"How's your summer been?"

"Good." I shrugged.

"Great. Ready to come home?"

I didn't answer that right away. Going home meant no more hanging out with boys and playing pool and no more Steve. On the other hand, going home meant reasonable heat and good-looking hair and no more Tony. It wasn't an easy question to answer, so I didn't.

"Why?" I asked instead.

"Our plane just got in this afternoon. I have some things I need to take care of at the office, but I can be in Tulsa by the end of the week."

Five days. That's all he was giving me.

"O-ok," I replied.

"Great. I'll see you Saturday."

"Sure."

"Mind putting your Aunt Laurie on?"

I nodded and set the phone down on the table. I turned and Steve was standing there looking like the typical Steve I had met earlier this summer. Nothing could touch him. I really wished I could be more like him for just five days. I knew I was going to cry before the end of it.

"Five days" I shrugged, making my way past him and up the stairs again.

What else was there to say?

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens


	8. The 'Spill It' Look

Ok, a post! Cheer! Anyways, this is almost the end people. It's kind of sad that I'm almost there. Exciting, too.

Disclaimer: I own nothing but the weird Canadian.

On with the Toque!

"Captain's log, supplemental. With only two days until the rescue team comes, I have made a list of things to do before I leave Tulsa to better make use of what time is left. It occurs to me that there should be so many more things documented, but I have decided to delay my report to Starfleet Command in favor of experience. I will make sure I record it all later. Perhaps my view will be more professional once there is space between myself and these not-so-strange-anymore alien life forms…"

"Alright, Becca. I'll bite. What was the point of that?"

I looked over my shoulder at Steve and shrugged. We'd spent the whole day walking around down town Tulsa looking at the older buildings. I had a thing for old style buildings. The house Mom and Mark were looking at right now was a 1921 two story place in the country and I liked it from the moment I set eyes on it. Not that I would tell them that. The old fashioned buildings in Tulsa were mostly gone, but you could see some pre-turn-of-the-century architecture. City Hall was one of them and the courthouse another. Steve refused to let me take a tour of the courthouse. I hadn't bothered to ask why. There were more buildings to see, so I hadn't pushed it.

"Yeah, like a shrug covers it."

I turned to look at Steve and shrugged more exaggeratedly. This was one of those things Steve always gave me looks for. They weren't nice looks, either. It was like he found the stuff that interested me stupid or lame or something. I really didn't want another one of those looks when I had so little time left to just have fun with Steve. He frowned at me and I started walking again. I had left my hair down today and it didn't bounce the way it did when it was tied up in a ribbon. It was kind of depressing, but I ignored it. Someone always made a crack about it. Not today.

Steve caught my arm before I got very far and gave me a look I knew well. It was the Randle 'spill it' look. I was no match for that look. So I stopped and sighed.

"Steve, do you ever just go with the flow?" I asked and he didn't stop frowning at me. "I mean, spontaneity is nice sometimes."

"Becca."

"Fine," I sighed digging into my pocket for the folded piece of paper hiding there.

I handed it over to Steve and waited for him to point out how stupidly organized I liked to be. Instead he just looked it over and sighed.

"We got a couple days to get this all done, we can slow down a little."

"No, Steve. It's a long list of things to do and we're never going to get it done if we don't keep a steady pace."

Steve nodded, but he didn't actually agree with me and went back to reading over my list. I'd pulled out the directory at the DX and made note of all the businesses in Tulsa that caught my eye.

"I didn't know there were this many things to do in Tulsa," he muttered and I rolled my eyes. "Why do you have a list of things to do?"

"Because I might never make it back here again." I shrugged. "I don't want to regret anything."

"Like making me miserable by dragging me to all these dumb places?" he muttered and I gave him a dirty look.

"You'll have fun, Steve, even if you won't admit it. What's next?"

"You're kidding me, right?" He asked and I shook my head. "You honestly want to see Buck's?"

"Two-Bit suggested it."

"He would," Steve muttered.

"So, where is it?" I asked, looking along the main drag and seeing nothing that advertised 'Buck's'.

"Over on our side of town right near the highway," he answered.

"Well, that makes it more convenient." I nodded.

"Becca," Steve sighed, "Buck's is no place for a girl."

"Why not?" I asked, following Steve as he started walking again.

"If I asked you to just trust me, you wouldn't drop it, would you?" he asked and I shook my head. "Didn't think so."

"It can't be that bad. Two-Bit swears by the place."

"Two-Bit is a full-grown Greaser who carries a switch," Steve replied. "He also has a lot of friends."

"I'm not following you," I told him and he sighed like he was explaining something very simple to someone very dense.

"Buck's is a tough Greaser haunt. Guys drink and play cards and even rough each other up."

"Sounds like Darry's."

"Yeah, well, at Darry's no one assumes you're willing to sleep with them."

I looked at Steve and frowned. What was he talking about? Of course no one there thought I was going to sleep with them. I was Steve's cousin and they were practically his brothers, which made me like their cousin.

Steve stopped walking and shoved his hands in his pockets. He only did that when he was getting frustrated. I figured it was a conscious thing so he didn't go hitting anyone. He gave me a hard look and I resisted the urge to back up a step.

"At Buck's, all the girls are tough Greasers who can defend themselves."

I wanted to interject that I could defend myself, but Steve sent me a look and I knew he would not like being interrupted.

"But most of the girls at Buck's are there for one reason and I won't have anyone there assuming that you're like that."

Oh. Oh!

"People actually go to Bucks for sex?" I asked and he started walking, which translated to 'yes'. "Is it a brothel? I thought those were extinct."

"No, it is not a brothel. It's just loose and those girls have reputations I don't want you to be related with."

"No one would think that, would they?" I asked and Steve stopped again. He really didn't want to have this conversation. "I mean, I'd be there with you."

"You're not a Greaser, Becca. You don't get it and I want it to stay that way." He growled then and I jumped back a little. "I won't have anyone calling another member of my family a whore. Not you – especially not you. So you stay clear of Buck's, you hear me?"

"Yes," I answered, eyes wide, as Steve stormed off down the sidewalk.

"Becca!"

I jumped and jogged to catch up with him. He was mad and I really didn't understand why, but I knew better than to ask.

After that, I knew better than to ask about Buck's again. We ended up over at the Darry's like we usually do since Steve's place was not somewhere you wanted to be unless you had nowhere else to go. Don't get me wrong, things had settled down since that night Steve got hit, but it was boring. Tony controlled the TV, and when he wasn't home, Laurie went out of her way to pretty much smother Steve, so we always hid away in his bedroom or mine and there was only so much you could do with a red sleeping bag and a deck of cards. Anyway, Darry never seemed surprised when we showed up. He just asked us if chicken was ok for dinner and went back to the papers he was pouring over. I supposed this was how the bills got paid or something.

Sodapop was sitting on the couch, DX shirt open and lazy smile on his face while Ponyboy was sitting on the floor with a book and Johnny was focused on the TV. You'd think that this would be boring too, because this is pretty much what went on around here while everyone was waiting for supper, but it never got tiring. I guess it was all about good company and being with people you enjoyed spending time with. So I flopped down in the chair while Steve stood over by the kitchen and gave Soda meaningful looks. Soda finally frowned and got up to join him. The back door close a moment later and I figured they'd gone out back. I sighed and blew the bangs out of my eyes.

"They do that a lot," Johnny said, not looking away from the TV.

"Yeah, but never over me," I pointed out.

Ponyboy glanced up at me and I sighed. "I'm starting to sound like he's my boyfriend or something."

"Or something," Ponyboy shrugged.

"You're going to have to elaborate, Horsefly," I suggested, ignoring the look Ponyboy was throwing me.

"I can name the number of people who care about Steve on two hands," he pointed out and I sighed. For such a smart guy, he never seemed to get to the point.

"Which finger am I?" I asked and he frowned at me. "Sorry. It just bothers me when Steve's out of sorts. But I get it."

"What did you do to set him off?" Ponyboy asked and it was my turn to give him a look.

"The lady doesn't kiss and tell," Two-Bit said sitting down on the arm of the chair, practically on top of me.

"Hi, Two-Bit," I greeted.

"Well, if all I get is a 'Hi, Two-Bit' for saving you from awkward questions…" he trailed off and shrugged. "Who'd you kiss by the way?"

"I didn't kiss anyone." I shoved him off the arm of the chair and he made a theatrical show of falling off it.

"If you want to get me jealous, it won't work," he stated and I rolled my eyes.

"Wouldn't want that," I muttered and he ruffled my hair on his way to the couch.

"So, did you get over to Buck's yet?" he asked and I shook my head as a 'no'.

"No, Steve got pretty mad over that suggestion," I told him and he frowned.

"Why would that get Stevie's panties in a twist?" he asked.

"Well, for starters, it's a brothel," I pointed out and he really frowned. "Loose sex, Two-Bit."

Realization seemed to hit him and he started to laugh. Ponyboy, Johnny, and I all looked at him like he was absolutely crazy – well, crazier than normal. He hooted a few times before wiping away fake tears and straightening up on the couch.

"You thought I would send you to the bar?" he asked, sputtering a few times like it was freaking hilarious.

"Yeah, you moron," I interrupted. "You said it would be the best thing I'd see in Tulsa!"

"I didn't mean that Buck's, I meant the other Buck's."

"There are two Buck's?" Johnny asked and Two-Bit nodded solemnly.

"And what goes on at the other one? Gambling? Peep shows? Strippers?" I asked and he threw me an amused look.

"Horses." He smiled.

"Horses?" both Ponyboy and I asked.

"Yeah. Buck has his fingers in horses. He even has stables."

Ponyboy sighed then and shook his head. "You mean the Slash J stables?"

"I've always called them Buck's." He shrugged and it was my turn to sigh.

"It would have saved me a lot of grief if you just memorized the proper name for things."

"What's the fun in that?" He shrugged. "Hey! _Mr. Ed_ is on!"

And so we watched _Mr. Ed_ until Ponyboy and Two-Bit started arguing over how the horse talked. The horse didn't actually talk, but his lips moved, and that was something to argue over. Johnny and I watched them after that until Darry called dinner. Steve didn't join us and Sodapop sent me a warning look when I got up to go get him. I ignored him.

Steve was sitting on the back deck, looking over at the fence that needed painting. I sat down beside him and he didn't even bother glancing at me.

Sometimes, I managed to forget that Steve was just a year older than I was. Sometimes, I managed to forget that he came from a poor home life. And most times, I managed to forget that he had feelings, too. I didn't want to know that it hurt him that his mother was like one of those loose women at Buck's. I really didn't want to know that it offended him that someone would think the same of me. Steve and I had grown close over the summer, but to think he cared was something that made me want to cry. We'd wasted so much time at the beginning of the summer being enemies and now we only had a few days left to be friends, to be cousins. I hated this.

"Do you really care what other people say?" I asked after a while and he sighed.

"Only when it's true," he replied bitterly.

"No one judges you by your parents."

"Easy for you to say. My mother sleeps around my father drinks and hits," he sighed, running a hand through his greased up hair. "People look at me and they know I'm going to be just like them."

"No one in that kitchen thinks so," I told him. "I don't think so."

"You don't get it, Becca."

"Why? I'm not a Greaser, so I don't know anything?" I asked and he shook his head "I know you, Steve. You're not your dad. You're not your mom. You're Steve and Steve is still trying to figure out what he's going to be. So until then, give yourself a little more credit, huh?"

"Yeah," he sighed in the tone I knew meant he was going to try, but he doubted it would get him very far.

I scooted closer to him and threw my arms around his neck. We sat like that for a bit before he patted my arm and I backed off.

"I believe in you. You're going to be a car guru and make a name for yourself," I told him. "And I'll be right behind you one hundred and ten percent since I'm pretty useless with cars and know I'll need you a few dozen times a year when I finally get one."

Steve smirked. "Lord, Becca, I hope you never get your license."

"You don't mean that. You'll love it when I get my license. I'll always have you on the phone with dumb questions. I know how much you love those."

"Brat." He shook his head and I smiled.

"So, I've been thinking about my list," I told him and he groaned. "Instead of Buck's the bar, I thought we'd go to Buck's the stable."

"That moron," Steve sighed.

"Yeah, that's what I thought you'd say. But can we? Please?" I asked and Steve nodded.

"We'll have to bring Soda, though, or he may never forgive us."

"Really?" I asked, standing up and Steve followed suit.

"Yeah. He's a horse nut," Steve informed me.

"Well, if I had only known that at the beginning of the summer. You have no idea how much I love horses."

"Well, I'll find out tomorrow for sure."

And then we went in the kitchen like everything was normal. Only it wasn't and at the end of the week, it would never be like this again. I wanted to sigh. I wanted to call Mark back and tell him to leave me here. I wanted to go home. I guess I just wanted everything and if that wasn't selfish, I didn't know what was. So I smiled and sat down between Steve and Dallas who had shown up at some point for dinner and to tell us all about a fight he was in earlier. Johnny and Ponyboy were hanging on his every word while Two-Bit was having a blue potato castle-making contest with Sodapop and Darry was watching it all with a hidden smile.

I was going to miss them all.

* * *

Any comments at all are welcome and flames accepted!!

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


	9. Surprises

Almost there, folks.

Disclaimer: The usual!

On with the shoe!

"Captain's log, Supplemental. Tomorrow rescue comes."

I closed my journal and sighed. That was the worst entry I had ever entered, but it was fitting. They say when it's over, it's over and you don't ever really have to say more than that. I sighed to myself and rolled over on the bed so I could stare up at the wall where Bill Shatner was.

"Did you ever hate leaving a place?" I asked him and got no answer, but I figured he would have said yes just to console me. "I finally find a decent family member my age and he lives a country away. Better than a galaxy, I suppose, but just as far when you don't have warp 4.5."

I sighed again and stood up on the bed looking Bill seriously in the eye. "We're going home. Try not to get crinkled this time."

And with that I carefully pulled the poster from the wall and rolled it up with care before sliding a hair tie on it and stacking it on top of my bags by the door. My backpack full of books, cards, paper, colors, paints and the like was packed. The travel bag I kept my hair things and make up in was also ready to go. My suitcase was lying open on the floor where it still housed most of my clothes. I had been wearing Pony's shorts and T-shirt for the past few weeks unless we were going out somewhere. So I really hadn't had to do much when it came to packing my clothes. All that was really left was to take the pictures off the walls, gather up the knickknacks, and roll up the sleeping bag. It was hard to believe that my life had been so simple as to fit in a suitcase, a backpack with a sleeping bag strapped through the arms, and a blueprint tube for the posters. I had so much stuff at home I thought I would never be able to live without. Now I knew I could and I had the feeling that I could live on less. Steve, Two-Bit, Dally and Johnny all did. Not to mention the Curtis boys. Not that they necessarily preferred it that way, but it was a point to keep in mind when we – Mom and I – finally moved out of the apartment to live somewhere more spacious with Mark. Mom and I were both stuff collectors to a terrible degree. Bobby was, too. Dad just picked up one day with a bag on the back of his motorcycle. Looks like Bobby and I missed out on the practical traits. Mark was very practical. I wondered if I had to call him 'Dad' now. I shook my head, thinking I'd ask Steve's opinion later. Lord knows he was full of those.

Deciding the room was depressing, I made my way downstairs. It was midday. Laurie was out and Tony was supposedly at work. Steve had another hour before he'd be home from the DX, so it looked like TV was going to be my companion for a while. I sat down on the couch, even though Tony's chair had a better view of the TV, and was shocked to find I couldn't get into the noonday, agriculture based news. To be fair, I lasted ten minutes before getting up to turn it off. Well, there went the only entertainment. With a sigh, I hauled myself up off the couch and went back upstairs. I paused outside Steve's door and shrugged. He was bound to have a magazine in there.

Steve and I didn't spend much time in his room. Mostly if we wanted to just hang out we'd go on over to my room. It was bigger, cleaner, and the bed wasn't up against a wall, so we got a bit more room on it if we were playing cards or something. It also had a tall footboard, so Steve didn't mind sitting on the bed. He and Tony got into it a few weeks ago and that footboard was one of the only things that seemed to give his ribs enough support to stay sitting up for the first couple days. When I was packing earlier, I'd caught myself looking at my suitcase and wondering if I could fit Steve in. He could come and live with me and never get beat or talked down to again. Next time, I was going to have to invest in a much bigger suitcase.

I shook my head and pushed the door open to Steve's room. It was small, even in comparison to my room, which was pretty small. The bed took up the length of the wall on the left side of the room. There was a dresser on the right side and about 2 feet between to walk through. He had a small window right by the bed and a bare bulb hanging from the ceiling for light. That was about it. There was clothing on the floor and schoolbooks on the corner of the bed. I noticed he didn't even get a closet. So, being the curious, annoying, blonde, bratty cousin I was, I had asked Steve about the room assignments around here. He'd shrugged and said he was never in it much anyways. Then he'd pointed my attention to the window and suggested I take a look at the strategic positioning of the drain from the eaves troughs. I suppose that made it easy to sneak in or out if he really had to.

Currently, Steve's bed actually had sheets and there was a blanket tangled up along the wall. I didn't bother straightening it out before flopping down on the bed and looking around the room from this vantage. If I lived in this room, the most obvious place I would put my reading material would be under the bed. So I leaned over and fished blindly under it until my hand closed around one. Steve was really into mechanics and probably had tons of car –

I didn't even finish that thought. I was pretty stunned by the magazine I'd pulled out from under his bed. It had nothing to do with cars. In fact, there was a naked woman on the front.

I pressed it into the bed and covered it with a pillow so I wouldn't have to see it. Lord knows why Steve needed something like this when he had Evie. It was just…he definitely did not have younger siblings. If he did, he would have been a lot smarter when it came to hiding stuff like this. Seriously, if you ever want to know everything about where a person hides their stuff, go to their younger sibling. We know everything about anything that someone could want to hide. Why? Well, it's a way to remind our siblings that we may be younger, but we do hold some of the cards.

Why was I even thinking about that when I had a-a-a nudie magazine under my hands and Steve's pillow? Bobby never kept stuff like this where I could find it. Steve should have known better. I moved the pillow to un-crumple it and put it back when I paused. If you wanted to know the truth, I had never seen one of these magazines up close. I had far too much sensibility than to go into a drug store and pick one of those up. Even looking would have been downright scandalous.

I peaked between my fingers and wondered if the whole thing was full of dirty pictures? Maybe it had some advice for boys on how to talk to girls or something. I often wished girls had something like that. It would have saved me a lot of embarrassment. But knowing guys, it was probably just full of the nudie pictures. I stared at it for a whole moment before deciding I wasn't going to ever find out if I kept the thing squashed between my hands and the sheets. I know, curiosity killed the cat and whatnot. But as long as it was private curiosity, there was no harm or foul. Besides, I just needed a tiny peek and then I would know everything and never question it again.

With that reasoning in mind, I opened the thing in front of my nose and gaped. It was stocked full of nudie pictures, but there was text, too. It was like a very…interesting reading incentive. The quotes all talked about the girls and what they were like personality wise. It was illuminating. For example, there was a naked girl with a feather duster who wanted to be a doctor and travel to Africa to help the orphaned children. All I could help thinking was that she wasn't going to get far with that if the nuns or whoever looked after those kids saw this magazine.

They were all like that. These very brazen women wanted to be bigger and better things. It made you wonder how they got into the dirty pictures business. Maybe Steve's purchase was helping to put that feather duster doctor through school. That's if he actually paid for the magazine. Steve had a reputation for being slick fingered, but mostly with hubcaps. A magazine was probably an easy steal in comparison. I got busy reading about these girls and only looked up when Steve was pretty much ripping the magazine from my fingers.

"Becca?" he asked and I shrugged.

"There was absolutely nothing on TV," I explained. "And the girl with the Boa wants to go into fashion design at my mom's company. I could set her up and then I could set you up, if she's your type."

Steve just gave me that patented look he reserved just for me at times like these and shook his head. I shrugged and waited for whatever he wanted.

"You're worse than Two-Bit when it comes to getting into everything," he said and I shrugged.

"Two-Bit doesn't have little sister skills."

"I'm pretty sure he'd rather not," Steve replied.

"His loss."

"So, you just decided to go snooping through my room?" he asked, taking his DX shirt off and looking over the mess on the floor for another.

"I was looking for a car magazine. I got a little…distracted."

"I can tell."

He finally found a fairly clean t-shirt and threw it on. I curled my legs under me and made room on the bed for Steve. It was only one in the afternoon. We wouldn't go socializing for a little while at least. Sodapop wouldn't be home until five and Darry would be an hour behind him at least. So that meant Ponyboy had four hours to goof off and Two-Bit normally made sure he made the most of it.

"Do you have any car magazines?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Nope. I read enough of them at the DX," he replied.

"So they're all nudie mags?" I asked and he shook his head.

"Magazine. I only own the one and I'd appreciate if we never spoke of this ever again."

"Only one?" I asked, flopping over the side of the bed so I could look.

There was a bunch of laundry under the bed and some empty pop and beer cans. But he was right; the only magazine in the room appeared to be on the bed with me. I looked up at where he was frowning at me and I smiled at him.

"Lord, Becca," he muttered and I smiled even more brightly at him.

"You know you love me," I told him, pushing myself up. "Now, come on down stairs and I'll show you my limited cooking skills."

"Again?" he winced and I smacked him lightly as I exited the room.

"I can cook, you know," I told him defensively.

"If you say so."

"Well, then you can cook," I challenged and he shrugged, heading downstairs. "I'm serious."

"I know," he replied, going into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

"You're serious?" I asked and he shrugged.

"Why not? I should be the one proving to you I can cook." He hunched his shoulders a bit to look at the bottom shelf more thoroughly. "Besides, I've had your cooking."

I just shook my head at Steve. I was really going to miss his outlook on things.

"You'll miss my cooking when I'm gone."

"Yeah," he replied pulling some eggs out of the fridge.

We were quiet for a few minutes while Steve got out supplies for omelets. I'd never had them in the afternoon, but I didn't bother telling Steve that. I mean, he was cooking. Cooking. Steve Randle knew how to cook. It was a hard concept to get my head around.

I got up and went over to the counter so I could watch Steve work. He deftly cut up the leftover ham from last night and then some cheese and finally onions. Man, he even liked onions on everything. It was hard to believe we were only related by marriage when you looked at our similar food preferences.

"Steve, you're going to make a good family man someday," I told him.

"If you say so. I'm not going to get myself tied down anytime soon," he informed me.

"What, not planning on sweeping Evie up while you can?" I teased.

"And listen to her whine at me for the rest of my life?" He shook his head. "I don't think so."

"So she's your Miss Right Now?" I asked and he nodded.

Well, at least Steve had some common sense. I really didn't like Evie. Steve could do better.

"C'mon and eat, Brat," Steve directed, plopping an omelet on the table in front of my usual seat.

Steve had taken to calling me Brat lately. It was a term of endearment or something. I'd taken to calling him Jerk, though, so I figure this was our thing or something. I was going to miss that. Both my parents were only children and Bobby was my only brother and he was out in the mountains. To say having someone around my own age was spoiling me was an understatement.

I eyed my plate warily. It looked perfect. That was the problem. This was Steve. He could barely dress himself in clean clothes, let alone cook a picture perfect meal. He glanced over his shoulder at me and gave me a look that was half between irritated and offended. So I took a bite and nodded. It was really good.

"It's great, Steve. You're full of surprises."

"One of us has to be. Besides, I have it on good authority that Sodapop's cooking you a send-off dinner tonight."

I smiled then and even Steve smirked a little. Good old Sodapop. Everyone liked him, but what I really appreciated was how he could always put a little smile on Steve's face.

"Then I'd better get my fill now."

As promised, we ended up at Darry's house for dinner. Sodapop had been cooking when we arrived, so that left us in the living room with everyone else. Darry would look up from where he was reading the sports section from time to time – mainly when Sodapop made something clank really loud or yelped – with a doubtful look on his face. Ponyboy and Johnny had a poker game going on at the coffee table while the TV showed the local news. Steve was watching it listlessly. I'd suggested he go help Sodapop, but he'd reasoned that Sodapop didn't need the distraction and I had to agree. We were still waiting for Dallas and Two-Bit to get here, so maybe when they did, Steve would pick up a bit.

Bored, I leaned of the couch and rested my chin on Ponyboy's shoulder, throwing my arm over the other one. I could tell he was blushing something awful. All summer he'd been shy of me and blushing when I paid any attention to him. It was really cute. He'd gotten better as the time passed, but I was still managing to get a good red streak out of him.

I glanced at his cards then over at Johnny who was watching me for any signs of what Ponyboy had in his hand. I smiled. I knew nothing about Poker, but I assumed all reds was a good thing. Johnny looked back down at his cards and frowned slightly before folding. Ponyboy reached forward for the cigarettes being bet and Johnny turned his cards over to look.

"Man, you had nothing!" He pointed out, sounding indignant.

"So? You bought my bluff," Ponyboy defended.

"No, I bought her bluff," he corrected and I heard Steve snort behind me.

"I tried to teach her, Johnny, but she's a hopeless card player," Steve said and I shrugged.

"I thought having all reds was a good hand," I told him, letting go of Ponyboy so I could sit up straight again. "Now Gin is more my kind of game."

"Greasers don't play Gin," Steve said for what seemed like the hundredth time.

"Greasers don't do anything but cuss, play poker, crack jokes, and wrestle over the last piece of cake," I replied.

"There's cake?" Two-Bit asked, kicking his shoes against the wall as he came into the house.

"I wish," I replied. "I'm starved."

"I just fed you four hours ago," Steve reminded and I waved him off.

"Like you said, that was four hours ago. This is now and I'm hungry." I stood up and made my way to the kitchen, knowing Sodapop would let me pick at what he was cooking.

The kitchen was a disaster area. There was flour everywhere. There were pots and pans on the stove, the kitchen table was covered in scraps of veggies, the floor had an eggshell on it, among other things, and there was Sodapop – covered in everything as he danced around the kitchen.

"Wow," I said and Sodapop nearly jumped a mile high.

"You have to go back into the living room," he directed.

"Why?" I asked and he gave me a half smile under his best attempt at a stern look.

"Because you're the one I'm cooking for. Now, out with you," he ordered.

"But I'm wasting away, Soda," I whined.

"Here," he said grabbing a carrot off the table and shoving my arm towards the door.

"Thanks," I muttered going back into the living room.

"Looks like you got manhandled by a ghost," Two-Bit commented from where he'd taken my seat beside Steve.

I glanced down at the floury handprint on my arm and brushed it away.

"Pretty close if he doesn't hurry up supper. As it is, we're not going to be able to eat in the kitchen," I informed him, coming over to sit on him since he was in my seat, after all.

"We were planning on eating out back," Ponyboy commented. "Sodapop had me and Johnny scrub it down earlier and throw a table cloth over it."

"Way to ruin the surprise," I teased and Two-Bit poked me hard in the ribs. "Two-Bit!"

"Wow, she's like one of those Squeak toys."

"Oh, I hate you," I told him as he tickled my sides and I laughed.

"And I believe you," he replied, letting up. "Go sit on someone else, squirt."

"You're in my seat!" I defended.

"Your seat? I've been sitting here longer than you've been in bras."

"Like you know anything about bras," I told him, sliding onto the floor so I could observe the poker game, again.

Steve chuckled and Two-Bit took a big swig of the beer he'd brought with him. It wasn't often I found something that rendered him speechless. Sure, there was a lot he could say, but it was all crude or boasting and he often held off on those comments just for me or because Steve and/or Darry was giving him a dirty look. He didn't say it and I was trying hard not to think it, but I was going to miss that goofy Greaser.

"Dinner is served!" Sodapop announced from the kitchen.

"About time!" Two-Bit hollered and Sodapop merely smiled at him.

We all sat down out back at the picnic table I seemed to have ignored all summer. Darry proudly told us all he and his father had built it years ago from scratch. It was a big table, which was a good thing since everyone smooshed onto it after helping carry dishes from the kitchen. Sodapop and I were on either side of Steve. Johnny, Two-Bit, and Ponyboy were all squished on the other side. And then there was Darry who was sitting on a kitchen chair at the head of the table. That left the other chair he'd pulled out for Dallas, if he ever showed up.

"Ok, Soda, explain dinner," Two-Bit suggested.

"Alright. We have some of my personal favorites. Marshmallow Carrots –"

Melted, browned, gooey marshmallows were in a casserole dish over what I assumed was cooked and possibly tampered with carrots.

" – purple mashed potatoes, chocolate chip salad," Soda paused, motioning to where there were green leaves sticking out of something covered in whipped cream and chocolate chips. "And for the best part of any meal – Rainbow Chicken."

We all glanced over at the tray of multi-colored fried chicken pieces. They really were rainbow. Red, blue, green, purple, pink, yellow…it was…wow. Sodapop had probably put a lot of effort into making them all look so different.

"And then desert is just a plain old chocolate cake. I sort of ran out of time," he said with a shrug before sitting down.

I glanced over at where Darry was shaking his head with a small smile. Yeah, that was our Sodapop.

"Someone let Sodapop in the kitchen again?" Dallas asked, coming over to the table and flopping down into the chair.

"Pretty much," I said, smiling at him. "Care for a purple leg?" I offered and he ignored me, reaching for his own.

"Dig in!" Soda beamed and we all looked at the meal doubtfully. "What?"

"It looks…interesting, Soda," I assured him, digging in just like Dallas had.

"See, those two are eating it," Sodapop pointed out.

"Those two can eat anything," Two-Bit pointed back, dipping his finger in the salad. "But that's not half bad."

"I think I'll save room for dessert," Steve said and Soda shoved his shoulder playfully.

"C'mon, Steve. Don't tell me you're not man enough to handle pink chicken," Soda goaded.

I made a face at that and everyone gave him a strange look. That's when Steve snorted into his dinner and we all started laughing. Even Dallas joined in. I didn't think anyone was man enough for pink – as in uncooked – chicken and the subsequent food poisoning. It was still funny, though.

Sodapop reached over and picked up a piece of pink dyed chicken and set it down on Steve's plate. Pink was my favorite color and that was probably why Sodapop had colored a few of them like that. Oh, I was going to miss that boy. I glanced around the table where they were all still chuckling and bit my lip.

I was going to miss them all.

* * *

Ok, enough mushy talk. Like I said, just one more chapter, but I have other things in mind for poor Steve... 

Any comments at all are welcome and flames are accepted.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


	10. Going Home

Ok guys, last chapter. Still debating an epilogue, so we'll see.

Disclaimer: I am Tens and until S.E. Hinton changes her name, there's no money to be had, so I'm claiming nothing but a bratty Canadian.

On with the show!

Chapter 10

After we'd gotten back from Darry's house, we'd been at a loss for what to do until Steve commented on how bright the stars were. So I'd grabbed my big red sleeping bag and here we were, laying in the back yard finding constellations. I knew a lot of them from lying out in the backyard like this with my brother. Dad had showed him when he was little and he'd passed it on to me. Now I was doing the same to Steve. It was harder since we were so far south of everything I knew, but I was managing.

"I kind of see it," Steve said with a shrug. "You really have to picture it to make it look like it should."

"That's half the fun. Those Ancient Greeks didn't have TV, radio, cars, poker…"

"I get it. Show me another one," Steve suggested and I nodded.

"Ok, look right up and then to the left a little. There's three stars in a row that join onto four making a box shape. It's kind of hiding behind the house."

"I see it."

"They call that the Little Dipper," I explained. "See, because it looks like a little ladle."

"Is there a Big Dipper?" he asked and I nodded.

"You can see it in the winter time," I told him. "And that really sums up all the ones I can see tonight. I think Hercules is behind that cloud."

"Well, that was kind of cool," Steve said and I smiled.

"Just kind of? I think they're amazing."

"You're a chick. The only thing guys are allowed to call amazing are cars, fights, and parts of chicks," Steve pointed out and I elbowed him playfully.

"I'll keep that in mind," I commented, looking up at the stars again.

"You know, I used to make up my own pictures," Steve commented a few minutes later and I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye.

"Really?" I asked and he nodded. "Can you show me one?"

He nodded again and looked up at the stars carefully before grabbing my hand so he could point out the shape like I had with his hand.

"Those four stars are a car," he said, showing me the shape and I smiled. "Then those five there are a guy playing pool."

"A guy playing pool," I repeated, squinting at it.

"Well, a guy with one arm and no legs," Steve clarified and I nodded. "Plus he's only got two balls to hit."

"Ok, I can see that," I told him and he set my hand down, scanning the sky again. "I think it's really tuff that you made up your own constellations."

Steve smirked and I wondered if I had used the word 'tuff' right. Two-Bit had taught me it last week. It was like 'cool' or 'neato' and other nerdy expressions I had grown up with. Or at least I hoped it was. Two-Bit had a habit of telling me one thing and meaning another.

"Thanks, Brat," Steve finally replied and I smiled.

"I'll have to show off those Steve originals when I get home."

"You do that," he answered absently. "Can you see the same ones up north?"

"Yup, just they're not in the right place. All the ones in the north are the south ones to me. You should come on up and see for yourself at some point."

"Sure," he offered, not really listening anymore.

"I'm serious, Steve. If you ever need to get out of here or draft dodge or anything, my house is your house."

He looked over at me then and I hoped he knew I was sincere. After seeing Tony and Laurie on their finest behaviors…well, I wouldn't blame him for ducking out. I just didn't think he could leave his friends. Those boys were more a part of Steve than he was willing to admit.

"I can't leave, Becca," he told me and I bit my lip. "This is home."

"So? Toronto is home and I can think of a hundred other places I want to be."

"Well, I can't think of a single one," he replied and changed the subject. "If you look over the fence, you'll kind of see six stars. They make up a dog I named Two-Bit."

I decided to just sigh and go along with him. Steve was like that. You could talk to him until he stopped the conversation. After that, you had to respect him.

"Does Two-Bit know?" I asked and Steve shook his head.

"His head would swell if I told him there was a group of stars up there named after him," Steve replied with a small chuckle.

"Call it Keith, just to confuse him," I suggested and Steve smiled then.

"Yeah, that would do it."

We both looked up at the stars again and a wide yawn escaped my lips. I was tired, I was falling asleep and I absolutely hated it.

"Hey Steve?" I asked sleepily. "Do you think I have to call Mark 'Dad' now?"

"Do you still have a dad?" he asked and I nodded. "Then no. It'll get too confusing."

What did I tell ya? Steve always had an opinion on everything and he was normally right. I smiled and let my eyes close, giving up the silent protests about this being my last night with Steve and wasting time. I'd wasted enough of it already, but I'd be pretty miserable without sleep. Besides, it would probably be a few more minutes and Steve would be suggesting sleep anyway. He looked just as beat as I felt.

The next thing I knew it was morning. I was still laid out on the sleeping bag with Steve's jacket thrown over me. I pushed it away and wondered where Steve had gotten. This was my last day here, so I knew he wouldn't have gotten far.

The weight of that thought hit me and I felt myself blinking back the sudden flood of tears. This was my last day here, possibly forever. I was not going to cry, not yet anyway. I had to find Steve before I did anything. So I put the water works on hold as I rolled my sleeping bag, gabbed Steve's jacket, and went through the kitchen door. Steve was standing in front of the stove, only wearing jeans. His hair was wet and it looked like he was just fresh from the shower.

"How long have you been up?" I asked and Steve turned to look at me.

"Not long. Just grabbed a shower and started breakfast." Steve shrugged.

"Uh huh," I said and Steve sighed.

"You were fine. No one was going to touch you."

"You don't know that," I replied and he shook his head at me.

"The fence is six feet tall off the alley. No one was going to touch you because no one could see you."

I glanced out the window and looked over at the fence. It was pretty high…

"What's for breakfast?" I asked and Steve scraped something onto a plate.

"Eggs, bacon, and leftover potatoes."

"Well, you'll never manage to go hungry. Why does Darry feed you again?" I teased.

"Shut up and eat, Brat," Steve advised, setting a plate down in front of me.

"Hey Steve?"

"That's my name," he shot back and I frowned at him, wondering if he was in a bad mood or something.

"If I write you, will you write me back?" I asked and he sighed.

"I'll try, ok? No promises."

That summed up pretty much everything Steve did: no promises, but he did the best he could. I nodded and plopped egg in my mouth. It seemed like Steve knew how to cook eggs like no one else.

"So, any new projects waiting for you at the DX?" I asked reaching for the water glass Steve had set out in front of me.

"No."

I looked down at my plate and plopped another bit in my mouth. It was pretty obvious that something was bugging Steve and he was doing his best to hide it from me. This was a first since we'd decided to get along. He was acting like the same Steve I had met on the first day here, but he didn't seem mad at me this time.

We both sat there and I finished my meal in silence as Steve picked at his. When I was done, I leaned my chin on my knee and stared at Steve until he looked over at me with an annoyed expression.

"Why don't you go take a shower?" he suggested and I blinked. "You're covered in dirt."

I glanced down at my clothes and pulled my hair in front of me so I could get a good look at it. Yeah, I was covered. I guess I must have rolled off the sleeping bag at some point.

"Go on," Steve urged. "Mark'll be here in a bit and it'll look silly if he has to wait on you to shower. That or you'll look silly getting on a plane with grass through your hair."

He had a point.

"I looked silly getting on the plane coming down here," I told him. "I was painting until Mark yelled that it was time to go."

"You like to paint a lot, huh?" he more pointed out than asked and I nodded.

"Painting is my cars," I replied.

He looked back down at his breakfast and I got up to go and shower like he suggested. I was not going to try and clean myself up in the airport bathroom again. That was embarrassing enough the first time. So I took a shower and changed into an actual skirt. I preferred Pony's shorts, but if we were going to be traveling, it was better to look like I was somewhat presentable.

Steve's door was closed when I went to look for him and that was a first. So I knocked.

"Steve?" I asked, opening the door.

"Yeah?" he asked, not looking away from the wall.

"Did I…umm…do something to make you…mad?" I asked, biting my lip anxiously after I'd spoken.

"What?" Steve asked, finally looking up at me.

"Did I do something to make you mad at me?" I repeated, shifting from foot to foot in the door and Steve sighed.

"C'mere, Brat," he offered and I climbed up beside him on the bed. "I'm not mad at you."

"Are you sure?" I asked and he slung an arm around my shoulders.

"I'm sure."

"You're in a mood," I pointed out, laying my head on Steve's shoulder and he sighed again.

"What did you expect?" he asked, looking at the wall again. "I got used to dragging around a bratty girl who didn't know a thing about anything I cared about. I got used to having someone around who needed babysitting half the time so she didn't get in trouble. And I got used to having someone in this house that didn't treat me like I ruined their life."

I blinked. Steve had gotten used to me. I made a small dent in his life and he was going to miss having me around. I could understand why that would put him in a mood. I mean, if I thought it would have made things easier, I would have tried to put some distance between us, too.

"I got used to you," he sighed.

"I got used to you, too," I told him. "Hanging out with you was kind of like having my big brother around again."

He snorted. "Just what I needed – a little sister."

"Hey! I'll have you know little sisters are a precious commodity. Just ask Two-Bit or…Does Dally even have a family? I could see him with a little sister."

"Two-Bit hides from his family half the time and Dallas doesn't really have one anymore," Steve told me. "So if they both had little sisters…"

"Ha ha," I replied. "Little sisters don't drive their brothers off, at least not intentionally."

"No, of course not," Steve drawled and I elbowed him in the side.

"Hey, where'd your mom get to?" I asked, wondering where she would be so early in the morning.

"She didn't come home last night," he offered with a shrug. "She doesn't sometimes. She says that things get hectic at Bingo."

"Steve," I winced. "Do you know what we use Bingo as a code word for up north?"

"Probably the same thing she uses it for."

"You know?" I asked, surprised.

"Of course I know. I'm her kid. I know my mom better than she probably does. You probably know your mom better than anyone, too."

"Yeah," I agreed. "I do miss my mom and even Mark. He's not so bad, you know?"

"I don't really know him."

That wasn't surprising when you looked at how different life turned out for Mark and Tony. Mark designed office buildings all over the world and Tony built them right here in Tulsa. One of them got out and the other was stuck here. The different paths were definitely reflected in their current lives.

"I hope someday you get the chance to get to know him. He's the only one out there that I thought was good enough for my mom. And it took him a while to get there, too. But he held out. It's his stubborn trait – a Randle trait."

"Me? Stubborn?" Steve snorted. "It's not just a Randle trait, unless you're planning to go by Randle."

"Jerk."

"Brat," Steve replied with a shake of his head.

We were quiet after that, talking about whatever came to mind, but mostly just sitting on Steve's bed. We heard Laurie come home sometime later and the postman even came by, but we didn't move. It seemed like only a moment had passed before there was a knock on the front door. It was the knock we'd been waiting for all day, I knew it. I climbed off the bed to look out the window and wasn't surprised to see the top of Mark's light head. I left the room and made my way downstairs in time to see Laurie let Mark into the house.

He looked…I don't know. Different, for sure. Like he was well rested and…happy. His smile softened as he looked over Laurie's shoulder at me and I felt a grin touch my own lips.

"Hi there, Captain," he greeted.

"Hi," I replied.

"And here she is!" Laurie beamed. "She's been packed and ready to go since yesterday."

"Really?" Mark asked, smiling a little still. "She didn't get that from her mother. Sharon was still packing ten minutes before we had to leave for our return flight."

My mother. I missed my mother.

"Come on in and sit a spell. Rebecca has to fetch her things still and I'm sure you're thirsty after the flight," Laurie directed Mark, gripping his arm so she could pull him into the room.

"Thank you, Laurie," he said in a faked polite manner. It sounded real enough, but I could tell he was faking. What? He learned it from me.

Mark stood by the couch and Laurie trotted into the kitchen to find him something to drink. That left the two of us staring at each other.

"Wow. Look at you. You must have grown a foot," Mark commented. "Your skin's darker and your hair's even blonder. I don't think your mother is even going to recognize you."

"How is she – Mom, I mean?" I asked.

"Good. She misses you like crazy. She was going to come and pick you up herself until her assistant had a bit of a break down over one of the new designs in production."

I nodded. Gordon got like that when Mom was away too long.

"How'd things go here?" he asked and I shrugged. "Just ok?"

"Just ok."

"Well, that's an improvement from the sullen kid I left here," he commented and I glared at him.

"Not that it was fair of you to leave me here with perfect strangers."

Mark was about to say something when Laurie came into the room with iced tea. She was smiling that same phony smile she'd had on every day since I got here. It was getting on my nerves a little.

"Well, you should go get your things, Rebecca," she suggested and I rolled my eyes before getting up to do that.

Mark snorted into his glass. Oh, he was definitely in a good mood.

A few minutes later I had my things packed by the front door and was dancing from foot to foot, anxious to leave and dreading saying goodbye to Steve. That was probably why he was upstairs he knew I was going to cry if he came down. I was going to cry if he didn't too. Mark took forever to get the hint before he stood and thanked Laurie for taking care of me again.

"Becca?" he prompted and I held in a sigh.

"Thank you very much for having me. It's been a slice," I said and Laurie moved to hug me.

"I will miss you," she cooed and I made faces behind her back that had Mark smiling fondly.

"Ditto," I assured her, hefting my backpack up on my shoulder.

"Well, I'd better get going before she decides to leave me here," Mark teased. "Take care, Laurie. Say hi to Tony for me."

Laurie smiled after us and waved until we were at the end of the yard. I saw her close the door and did roll my eyes then. Oh, that felt good. It had been a while since I had been in this bratty a mood. I blamed Mark. He was the reason I was here in the first place.

"Ready to go?" he asked, closing the trunk of the rental down after my suitcase and poster roll.

"Yeah," I said, turning from where I had been looking at Steve's bedroom window.

"You ok?" Mark asked, leaning over the roof of the car.

"Yeah. I just got used to the place." I shrugged.

He nodded and hopped in the car, staring it up a moment later. I was about to climb in when the front door of the house opened. Steve trotted out with my red sleeping bag in his arms.

"You forgot this," he pointed out and I nodded, taking it from him and setting it in the back seat. "Looks like you're ready to go."

"Yeah," I said with a nod.

"I'll miss ya, Brat."

I looked up at Steve and hugged him tight, surprised he wasn't sighing at how dramatic I was being. It wasn't like we were friends or even really family. We were something in between. Saying goodbye should have been much easier for how undefined we were.

"Bye, Steve," I sniffed, letting go of him and hopping in the car.

Steve just stood there until Mark got the hint and started driving. I wiped at my eyes as we drove down the road and sniffed a few times.

"You got used to him, too, huh?" Mark asked and I nodded.

"He's the best step-cousin I could have hoped for, even if he was a jerk," I explained, blowing my nose and tried to stop acting like such a baby. "So, another long drive all the way to Oklahoma City. Joy."

"Actually, we're boarding in Tulsa this time."

"What?" I asked, turning in my seat to look at Mark, tears forgotten. "Why didn't we land in Tulsa, too?"

"Well, I had time to kill and you've met Laurie." He shrugged. "Besides, you may not believe me, but I do enjoy spending time with you, Rebecca Brandt. I thought I would get in as much as possible before I spent a whole month abroad."

I was in shock. He'd put me through hours of boredom. He'd driven me nuts over hours of country music and then he left me in what I considered to be worse than hell. But the most shocking thing was that even with how mean I was to him, he liked me.

I really didn't know what to think of that and thought about asking Steve. That would be in my first letter to him. He'd have an opinion. He always had an opinion. And that was one of the things about Steve that I got used to, too.

We drove past the DX and I waved to Sodapop who was busy pumping gas. He hollered back and I smiled. Pony and Johnny even waved from where we passed them on the sidewalk a few blocks later. And as we got further and further out from the neighborhood and I recognized less and less, I was sure that I'd come back some day, if only to check up on Steve. Not that he needed checking up on, but...maybe I wouldn't need an excuse next time.

Mark began humming along to the radio and I smiled a little. He really wasn't so bad - a little annoying, but not so bad. I rifled through my backpack and pulled out the journal I'd been writing in all summer. I'd neglected it today on purpose, but I wanted to get it done before I left Tulsa and it became more routine than memory.

"Captain's log, supplemental. Rescue came today and I'm off home again. I am excited to see a familiar place and spend time with those who know me best, but I am honestly leaving something behind I never imagined to have – a part friend who is also a brother in a way. Our alliance will continue on through letters and perhaps some day I will return or he will make the trip across the galaxy to see where I came from. Until then, the Alien offspring will not be too far from my thoughts. As well, the newly discovered constellation 'Keith' will be added to the charts along with 'one legged and armed man playing pool' and 'lop-sided car'."

I smiled and tucked the book away again, like turning the page on my summer in Tulsa. It was time to go home.

* * *

Ok, the end! 

Thankies to everyone who read and reviewed and offered suggestions and just plain turned out for the show! Special thanks, of course, to Zickachik73 for putting up with my lazy butt.

See ya in the funny papers!!!

Tens and Zickachik


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